Red Silk
by Lueur-de-L'aube
Summary: The cafe was cool and cozy, perfect for such a hot summer, and the staff seemed very polite and helpful. It was perfect for a date. Only, this wasn't a date. She was here for the sex and the person she intended to meet was the prostitute who was going to give it to her. He was a handsome man, and she knew it was going to be one expensive ride for her. AU.
1. White Tulip

A/N: Yes, another story I have started without finishing the other! Just to warn you people, this story deals with prostitution. If you don't like this topic, turn your eyes away. For the rest who's willing to stick around, enjoy! :)

* * *

Chapter One - White Tulip

Maka Albarn was a lot of things. She was smart, she was brave, she was kind though sometimes easy to irritate, she was compassionate, and she was quite successful for her young age of 25. Her success was due in part to her hard-working personality and her brains. She graduated high school early, worked her ass off in college, and managed to make a number of useful connections resulting in a flourishing career as an architect.

Maka Albarn was a lot of things, but unemotional and stoic was not one of them. Being lucky with men wasn't one of them either.

Sweet Tsubaki Nakatsukasa didn't know what hit her when her best friend slammed her glass full of expensive champagne onto the table forcefully and very close to her very vulnerable and unsuspecting hand. She flinched and smiled apologetically at the several curious and disapproving onlookers their table had gathered due to her outraged friend.

"And then he had the audacity to accuse me of being a total bore in bed!"

"Maka, please...people are watching...you're being too loud."

"Let her be, Tsubaki. It's actually quite funny to see her like this."

"B-but Liz..."

Elizabeth Thompson, a fun-loving and snarky engineer, threw the timid girl a sneaky grin before she turned her attention to Maka, her smile widening at the small blonde's flushed face and blazing eyes.

"He has no right to talk like that! I'm not a total bore. If anyone's a total bore it's him! The nerve of that bastard."

"Say, Maka," Liz casually cut in and took a sip from her glass, "why are you getting so worked up over him anyway? It's clear he said all that stuff in a miserable attempt to pick up the shards of his overblown ego and try to put it back together with cheap glue. Don't let his words get to you; you were the one to break up with him, and he couldn't handle that."

Maka fell silent, the anger draining from her face in an instant. She sighed heavily and glanced down, absentmindedly swirling her glass and watching the champagne move and sway.

"Why _did _you break up with him Maka?" Tsubaki asked tentatively, touching her shoulder lightly. "You never told us why exactly."

"Let me guess. You broke up with him because he didn't know where your clit was."

"Liz!" Tsubaki and Maka gasped in unison, the former aghast and the latter angry at their shameless friend.

"What?" Liz raised her hands defensively in front of her, "You told us that gem of a story. I would seriously consider something like that a reason for breaking up."

"I did_ not _break up with him because of that." Maka rubbed her temple and shot Liz a half-hearted glare. "Although it was pretty pathetic. The reason I broke up with him was because he was jealous that I was more successful than him. He was so fucking immature about it." After a solemn minute of silence, Maka raised her glass and smiled brightly. "Anyway, I think I won't be missing out on anything in life as a single."

Tsubaki and Liz followed suit and raised their glasses at their friend's little toast.

All in all, it was a fun night, something Maka hadn't been able to enjoy for a long time. They drank a lot, getting bolder, more derisive and more talkative as the night went on. This led Liz, who already possessed the subtlety of a sledgehammer, to pose a question that made Maka spit her drink out all over the pristine table-cloth.

"Sssoo...if you're going to stay single forever, what are you going to do about your sex life?"

Maka choked and coughed and the ever so helpful Tsubaki patted her on her back with a tipsy giggle.

"You really have no shame, Liz."

"I'm just worrying about you, my dear."

"You shouldn't be worrying about that part of my life."

"But it's important! Don't tell me that you're going to rely on self-service your entire life," she gasped indignantly, dramatically slapping a hand against her chest.

"Why are you all sobering up now that we're talking about sex?"

Tsubaki agreed with another tipsy giggle of her own, barely functional with the human language when drunk.

"Don't change the subject now."

"B-but..."

"No buts! I know how you'll end up. With your demanding job and your workaholic-tendencies, you'll end up as a frustrated shrew. You have to unleash all of these pent up emotions healthily. Don't fret my poor prude friend─I'm going to help you."

"I...I'm not a prude."

Liz snorted derisively and fished her phone out of her purse. "Puh-lease, I know you are in denial but you have to face the truth: you are a prude, missy. Someone who has never tried doggy-style can only qualify as one."

Maka gaped, her mouth opening and shutting dumbly. "That's how I qualify as a prude? On what positions I have used?"

"Pretty much."

"You're unbelievable."

"I know!" Liz looked quite smug at her declaration, although Maka had never meant it as a compliment. Maka banged her head against the table with a heavy sigh.

"I know someone who you can call whenever you need some. He's an old friend."

Maka blinked, her hazy mind not managing to catch up with her unreasonable friend's train of thought. "What are you talking about?"

"What...who I am talking about my dear Maka, is my old friend Soul. You can go to him whenever you feel like you need to let all that anger, frustration and stress out."

She blinked again, uncomprehending and too drunk to try to make any sense out of Liz's words. "Is...is he a psychologist?"

"Nope." Liz grinned brightly, making her shrink back in her seat. It was never a good sign if Liz wore that expression. "He's _an escort_."

It took her a little before the word and all its implications dawned on her.

"What? Liz are you out of your mind?!" She buried her face in her palms, muffling her shrill and enraged voice. Her cheeks flamed and she was sure it wasn't merely the alcohol in her bloodstream making her all warm and hazy. Her friend was definitely crazy, not that Maka considered this a revelation, but Liz was really climbing higher up the crazy-ladder.

"What's wrong with it? You feel stressed out you simply call Soul, and he will fuck the stress out of you." She laughed deviously, haughtily throwing her head back.

"I am NOT going to see a hooker! I am not that depraved."

"That's a pretty nasty prejudice you have there, Maka. Not everyone who goes to a prostitute is depraved. And he doesn't have to necessarily sleep with you. There are plenty of other ways he can entertain you."

Maka snorted, crossing her arms in front of her defiantly. "Surely you're not suggesting my dad is a healthy human being," she said petulantly, choosing to ignore the last part because Liz's smile had become more perverted and lecherous and there was nothing that made Maka believe she was thinking about anything less than sexual.

"Just because your dad is depraved, doesn't mean everybody else is too."

"I will not stoop to his level. I refuse. You can't make me see some hooker...prostitute...escort or whatever. Besides, sex isn't everything in life."

"But it feels good...if you have a competent partner."

She flushed even more and warily glanced at Tsubaki, who seemed to have already said her goodbyes to the world of the conscious. Oh how she wished Tsubaki could have talked some sense into Liz. But there was no use. A drunk Tsubaki was even more a sign for disaster than a drunk or sober Liz. Cursing the lightweight that was her friend, she spoke again, her voice low and tired, "Listen Liz, I don't need to see a hooker. Please, don't bring it up again."

Liz's amused expression vanished only to be replaced with a scowl. Her lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. "Fine, fine," she eventually said, putting her phone back into her purse. Maka heaved a sigh of relief and smiled slightly to herself and foolishly believing that she had finally managed to talk some sense into her drunk friend.

"But─"

Her head snapped up and she quickly placed her hand against her temple, trying to make the spinning of her brain less unpleasant. She groaned loudly and glared at Liz with as much fury as she could muster with her befuddled thoughts.

"─call him when you need it, okay?"

Her brow twitched and her teeth clenched. But her head was really pounding, and Liz was drunk enough to be considered mad, and Maka just couldn't bring herself to care so much about modesty and mortification. She let out a defeated breath.

"Fine."

* * *

"Argh! screw this!"

Paper ripped, hair gripped between long and deft fingers and a chair kicked over. Maka's room was a mess. Maka was a mess. She groaned and let herself plop onto her bed.

The Hendersons were going to be the death of her. Her new clients were nice but pretty demanding and in the habit of changing their minds constantly. She just destroyed another sketch because they remembered, seconds before she was finished, that they did want their new villa to include a tennis court after all!Maka wanted to kick them both in their well-clothed asses. Who needed a tennis court in their home anyway?

She really didn't want to stand up and start anew or stand up and risk the possibility of catching her reflection in the mirror, knowing that she was going to be far from presentable. Not that she was a vain person or someone who cared much about looks, but if she saw her swollen, red-rimmed eyes and greasy face, along with her wild and unkempt hair and topped by her ratty pajamas, she would be likely to lose it.

A shower would help her calm down. It would also benefit her hygiene, which after several stressful nights had begun to be neglected. At the moment she looked like a hobo. Releasing a hiss, she ran a hand through her tousled hair and squirmed and stretched on her bed.

Months had passed since the girl's-night out and Maka was cursing Liz to hell and back for putting such naughty and utterly crazy thoughts in her head. Yes, she was frustrated, yes, she was stressed and yes, she seriously needed some thanks to Liz feeding her the image of a hunk willing to fuck her thorough and expertly, masturbation had long ago lost its appeal. She sighed and clenched her fists. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath; she needed to clear her mind, she had to get over this phase. If she finished this job, she could take some weeks off and enjoy a quiet and peaceful time with her friends without her job always disrupting it.

But when she opened her eyes, all Maka could think about was the throbbing heat between her legs and how Liz babbled on about her hooker-friend Soul. She turned onto her stomach, buried her face into her pillow and let out a scream.

"Fuck."

* * *

Maka liked to blame Liz. And the Hendersons. And the alcohol. And her dad for his perverted genes. But mostly Liz and her dad!

The sinking and horrifying realization that she had really dolled herself up to see a hooker made her heavy gait falter and her fingers clench painfully against the purse that had been a present from her mother a few years back. Maka gulped and let her free hand smooth over her skirt, dusting invisible dirt away and drying her sweaty palm. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, her shoulders tensed and her blood pounded in her ears.

Maybe she should just turn around and leave quietly before she really made a fool of herself and went through with meeting a prostitute or escort or whatever he liked to be called. She should be concentrating solely on her work, on finishing the stupid villa and finally being done with the Hendersons and their indecisive ways. Even if that included multiple sketches being thrown into the trash bin and her hands being raw and cramped from working hours on end.

She brushed a few unruly strands of blond behind her ear and tentatively looked around. It was the perfect location for a date, really. The cafe was cool and cozy, perfect for such a hot summer, and the staff seemed very polite and helpful. Only, it wasn't a date. She was here for the sex and the person she intended to meet was the prostitute who was going to give it to her. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her stance and determinedly scanned the crowded room for Soul Evans. She expertly pushed her embarrassment and propriety away because who needed that when she was about to meet a hooker? And maybe nothing would come out of the 'date' and she could leave without having to worry about it again.

Even if it would take her several rounds of torture involving watching reruns of stupid and brain cell-killing reality TV to admit it, a well-hidden and secret part of Maka was deeply curious. She was about to meet a male hooker! Not something anyone would include as an everyday occurrence. She didn't know what to expect. Well, she supposed she should expect lots of sex, and mind-blowingly good sex at that.

But what else? Were they going to talk a lot? How much would it cost her? From what Liz had giddily told her, he was a high class hooker, whatever that might mean. Liz had described him as totally sexy and hot. Upon further inquiries on her part, she had clarified he was a hunk with white spiky hair and deep red eyes, a well-built body and stylish clothes. And in order to make it easier for poor, confused and prudish Maka, he would hold a white tulip in his hand so that she wouldn't accidentally mix him up with a random stranger.

Inhaling what felt like all the air in the cafe, Maka finally scanned the crowded cafe as her heart hammered wildly in her chest. Where was that guy? He shouldn't be that difficult to find with his features and the white tulip. Maybe it was her nervousness. Maybe it was her propriety, desperately trying to fight to the surface of the sea that was her jumbled emotions and thoughts. Maybe he hadn't come after all! Maybe she should really leave and-

There!

It had to be him. The white tulip! The hair and the clothes fit Liz's description. Maka couldn't discern the colour of his eyes from this distance, but there was no doubt that this was her prostitute.

He sat in the furthest corner of the cafe, which was a relief. He looked sour and tired and maybe a little angry. Maka was startled out of her thoughts when he glanced down at his wrist, eying what was probably his watch. Oh crap! She hurriedly glanced at her cell phone. Shit! She had spent 10 minutes debating on whether or not to see the guy and now she was late. How embarrassing and very unlike her. Her brain hadn't even caught up with her and she was already standing in front of his table, mortified at her tardiness.

Maka Albarn was never late! She had a few seconds to scrutinize his appearance closely. She noted that he was handsome and that it was probably going to be one expensive ride for her. The three to four seconds of blatant starring were interrupted by his voice, which was deep and smooth and would have doubtlessly sent something as cliché as 'shivers down her spine' if it weren't for the content of his words.

"Are you Maka Albarn?" A curt and jittery nod on her part followed. "Glad that you could make it, but never make me wait again. I hate waiting and I have another appointment in 30 minutes. So hurry and sit down, will you?"

Her eyes narrowed into a glare and her teeth gritted painfully together. But Maka was a polite girl and she was late, and even if he was being incredibly impolite about it, she was not going to snap at him. She plastered on a pleasant smile, having perfected the technique over the years of difficult college-life and having to civilly deal with rude people.

"I am very sorry for my tardiness Mr. Evans," she said sheepishly, "I'm usually never late to a...meeting."

His scowl softened and he turned his head to the side with a light scoff. "Whatever. Just make sure it never happens again. I am a very busy person."

Her eyes hardened but her smile did not falter. "So am I, Mr. Evans, and I promise you, it won't ever happen again."

"Good. Now let's get down to business. This is for you, by the way. Here..." He handed her the tulip as if it were a hot potato. Maka was partly inclined to bash him on the head with the novel she had purchased yesterday and partly inclined to make a quick dash out of the stainless glass doors to escape. "Since Liz told me you're not interested in my services beyond the sexual kind, I won't beat around the bush: I charge 400 dollars an hour for penetrative intercourse, which does not include oral sex, except for first-time customers. So Oral usually costs 100 dollars extra, but it will be free for you on our first meeting. You could of course employ me for the whole night, which would cost you 1000 dollars and-" he got out a small notebook and scribbled everything down "-I am also available for other sexual practices, including bondage, tantric sex and kama sutra. I am impartial to role play, although I have my limits: I do not dress up in female clothes for example, so don't even think about asking. If you require an escort for a social gathering, I am available if not previously booked, however, seeing as you are probably smart enough to notice, it will be pricy."

Maka's face was red. And that was an understatement. She fought to keep her mouth shut in order not to have something embarrassing come out of it like a squeak or a scream or expletives at his indifferent tone. How could he talk so casually about it?! She clutched the edge of the table firmly. Just what was she supposed to say? She hadn't thought it was going to be this complicated. She just wanted sex. She should have never come here. Shit. In what had she gotten herself into? Damn Liz! And her dad!

"Have you lost your tongue, Miss Albarn?" Her head snapped up, she was involuntarily met with his smirk and smouldering eyes. She wanted to give him some witty retort, but it died before it could come out of her mouth. "Don't worry. I'm used to it. Most first-time customers are very embarrassed and self-conscious. Of course, I could help you ease in to it slowly if you feel uncomfortable and we could start meeting up without engaging in any sexual intercourse at first." His awaited a response, but she stubbornly remained quiet, if only because she was too embarrassed to talk. "Anyway, since I don't have much time on my hands now, let me continue so we have all the important things covered."

There was more? Oh God.

"I will provide the contraceptives myself. They are of the best quality; I can assure you of that. Here –" He dropped a package of condoms onto the center of the table, making her gasp and splutter at his shamelessness. Maka quickly made a grab for it before someone saw it. No wonder he and Liz were friends! Both were perverted and had no shame. He chuckled lowly at her mortified face and wide eyes and then continued, "You can test their quality yourself. I am always ready to offer the best service to my customers. You are in good hands, Miss Albarn. Do you have any questions?"

She squeaked and stuffed the condoms into her purse, her cheeks flaming. She shook her head in a feeble attempt at human communication.

"Good." He leaned forward. He was suddenly so very close and she could feel his breath against her cheek. She reflexively leaned back, squirming in her seat, feeling lost and helpless. His eyes trailed down from her face to her neck and then her chest and further down until the edge of the table hid anything interesting. The nerve of him! She wanted to hit him so badly... but wasn't he going to see all of her? No, maybe not, if she just made her legs cooperate and leave this damned building. "I am happy to inform you that I accept you as a customer."

Maka blinked. "What?"

He smirked. "Even if you don't have much of a bust, you have a nice face and your legs really do make up for your complete lack of curves. Shall we discuss our further arrangements?"

"What?!" She couldn't believe it! She clenched her fists, ready to punch that insolent guy in his handsome face and preferably break his elegant nose. "You're judging my looks? I'm the one who is going to pay you. If anyone should judge someone, then it should be me judging you!"

He snorted and swatted her accusing finger away from his chest. "Do you honestly thinkI have no standards? Even if I am prostitute, I don't simply offer my services to any woman. I want my clients to be attractive and fit, I'm not looking for some fat, ugly and desperate lady coming onto me."

"You are so rude!" She was seething; her hands were twitching with the intent to strangle this immensely shallow guy. Yet she was still sitting there. Why didn't she just leave? Oh yeah because she was a desperate lady and a very curious and frustrated one at that too. She was pathetic.

"I am not being paid for being polite. And I don't get why you're getting so angry. I just complimented you and you blow up on me like that."

"I'm supposed to take living up to some random guy's standard as a compliment?"

"I'm not some random guy. Now, do you want my services or not?" He leaned very close again, his eyes imploring and serious.

Maka gulped and her shoulders tensed. A bit of sweat trickled down the side of her head.

This was so awkward and he was so blasé about it. For Maka, sex had always been something very intimate and only to be done with a loving partner and now she was supposed to easily consent to getting intimate with a stranger? But then again, if she were to decline, she would go home defeated and having changed nothing. The Hendersons still stressing her, her frustration building up and…and she would feel defeated. Moreover, she had just used her precious time to meet this guy and if she were to leave, it would have been a complete waste.

Licking her dry lips, she spoke. "I...I want to...I mean yes I want your services." She wanted to slap herself for her unsteady voice. She cringed and sighed afterwards.

He grinned in reply, steadying his chin on a palm. He ripped out the paper he had written his notes on from his notebook and handed it to her. "Let us get down to business. What do you want?"

* * *

What was one supposed to wear when you were going to be fucked by a prostitute?

Maka stood in front of her large mirror, eying herself critically from head to toe. That guy had_ standards_. She snorted. Did that mean she had to dress in extra-sexy underwear in order not to be sent back the moment he undressed her and saw her in all her glory? It was a mystery to her how she had agreed to his terms and how she was still willing to employ him. She scowled. Maybe she had more of her papa in herself than she had originally let herself believe.

On the topic of sexy underwear: she had none. Maka had always been a practical person and still believed underwear was for covering and nothing more. So why should she waste her money on expensive lace and ribbons and stockings and garters? Some called her stingy but she wasn't. She had to scrape a lot of money from the simplest jobs to be able to pay rent and buy food during college and doing something stupid like buying sexy yet expensive underwear had never been an option. She had always refused her dad's well-meaning but unwelcome offers of help. She might be in debt now because of her stubbornness, but she had enough money to be able to pay it back easily─ something that made her proud.

Wait!

She ripped her closet open. Hadn't Liz gotten her some lingerie for her 24th birthday (and had embarrassed her mercilessly)? They had to be somewhere! Maka would never throw away a present, no matter its perverted and useless nature. Oh, there! She was relieved and angry at the same time. She had found her only piece of lingerie! Why was she getting so worked up over some hooker? Damn it! She slid down to sit on her butt, holding the black bra and matching thong in her shaky hands. She frowned. The bra was alright. But she was so not going to wear the thong! They were uncomfortable and covered practically nothing. She had to have some black panties lying around in a drawer somewhere. She would simply wear one of them.

She sluggishly stood up and retrieved a pair of cotton panties, scrunching up her nose. Okay, cotton and lace didn't really match but he would get over it.

She quickly dressed herself, much to her horror noticing she would be late again if she wasted anymore time with frightened contemplation and arguments that resulted in nothing but headaches. She struggled a bit with the zipper of her little black dress, which she thought wasn't too exaggerated in style but still chic. She arranged her hair in a messy half-bun and put on her only set of high heels. They usually left her feet suffering from blisters and bruises, but she would manage. She could stand a little pain. Wincing a little as she adjusted her stance to her taller height, she made a few experimental steps towards the mirror, trying not to wobble too much and fall inelegantly down. With a last glance at her mirror, satisfied with her appearance, she made her way out.

The way to the hotel they had agreed to meet was tedious. The traffic was a bitch and Maka was afraid that she was really going to be late. Again. She didn't think she could live down the humiliation if that happened. When she finally pulled down in a nearby parking lot, she almost ran the remaining distance to the hotel, her feet protesting with pain.

She had expected something dingy and old and maybe rundown. She was positively amazed when she was met with a 5-Star hotel, the Grace Grande Hotel. She tried to look as neutral and indifferent as possible at such luxury. Did the owners know of his business in their hotel and tolerate it, or did he keep it a secret from them? What he did wasn't illegal, but it was rare to find a hooker set up in a place this nice. Just how much money did he earn to be able to book a room in such a hotel? Ah yes, he charged 400 dollars an hour. How could she forget? And how could she have agreed to pay such an exorbitant amount for sexual intercourse? Maybe she should have tried her hand at a one-night-stand after all. No. At least this way she was sure she would receive some quality sex and not some drunken and awkward and possibly mediocre, probably awful sex.

The middle-aged man at the reception desk was incredibly polite and quickly called a bellhop to lead her to Soul Evans' room, in spite of her insistence that she was able to find it on her own. Truthfully she was grateful; she probably would have gotten lost in the attempt.

Maka never thought she could spent so much time in an elevator. She tried her best not to gape – it was a very extravagant and a very golden elevator - and instead tried to concentrate on the handsome concierge's idle chatter. When they finally reached the door with the golden numbers_ 521_, she froze in the middle of the long hallway just beneath a chandelier. The nice concierge's confused voice made her move out of her stupor, and she followed him the few metres to the dark wooden door.

"Here we are," he said, smiling charmingly as he looked at her with bright brown inquisitive eyes. "If there's anything you need, you can always use the phone in the room and contact me directly."

Maka nodded slightly, eying the door with growing suspicion and vaguely wishing that the nice and chatty concierge wouldn't leave her alone.

"Alright then, I will take my leave. Have a nice evening, Miss Albarn and I hope you enjoy your stay here."

She didn't know if he was aware of the reason she was here or if she was merely overanalyzing him and his words, but her cheeks flared as she babbled a few words of thank back. Oh, she was going to have a very nice evening.

Before she could collect herself and check her appearance one last time, the door swung open to reveal Soul Evans. She gulped loudly and thought about turning and running as his lips curled into a lazy smirk and his half-lidded eyes scanned her up and down. "Good evening, Miss Albarn." He opened the door fully and stepped aside, "Please, do come in." She couldn't help the light shiver that danced through her body and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end, goose bumps blanketing her skin. Her heels clacked loudly against the wooden floor and she was a bit afraid she might fall down like the clumsy idiot she was, destroying the last shreds of her dignity completely.

She gasped when she got a good look around her. The room was huge! She didn't consider this a room, this was an apartment. Thid guy had to be filthy rich. She couldn't complain much about her financial situation, but even with her success, she could never afford a place like this regularly. Her mouth was open as she gazed around the living-room area where plush and leathery black couches were finely arranged around a round table. Maka didn't dare touch anything here, scared she might break something. Everything in here had to have cost a fortune. The rug underneath her ridiculous heels was a deep red with a random black pattern; it looked so soft... and expensive! And the television! She had only seen such huge flat screens in that large electronic store in the city.

She flinched when she heard the door shut loudly. Gulping thickly, she slowly turned around, only to find him standing right in front of her. Damn him and his constant invasion of her personal space! She took a few steps back, suddenly feeling claustrophobic and self-conscious.

This man was a complete stranger! And she was alone with him. In a room. A room he had booked. A room he knew in and out. What if…what if he was some crazy serial killer?What if pretending to be a prostitute was his modus operandi? What if, after successfully luring a gullible and frustrated lady like herself into his domain, he took his time to kill her in some sadistic way?

Shit!

What had she gotten herself into?!

"Are you alright? You look pale. Do you need to sit down before we start?"

She jumped and squeaked. He eyed her with a mixture of wariness, confusion and a little worry. He took a small step forward and she automatically took one back. He reached a hand out and before he could touch her, she slapped his hand away. His eyes narrowed into a glare. "What the hell, woman? If you only want to fool around, you can go. Now." He motioned towards the door, "I really hate people who waste my time. I could have met another serious customer and made some money, but instead here I am getting nothing with a flat-chested shrew."

Flat-chested shrew? That bastard. Asshole!

Her newest novel got happily and rather brutally acquainted with his skull.

"AHH! The hell! Ouch...ouch. Ouch! Stop it!You never said anything about BDSM! And spanking wasn't mentioned either. God damn! Put that book away!"

Her cheeks were red and her eyes screamed murder when she hesitantly withdrew her hand. "You're such a jerk! Why did I come here? Damn it!"

"Why? To get some sex because obviously no one else but a prostitute would be willing to do you with your anger-problem and small tits."

"Why, you─Ass!"

"Bitch."

"You-you are impossible."

He rolled his eyes and gave her a humourless grin. "I know, I know, Miss Eloquence." His upper lip curled into a disdainful sneer as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and glared down at her. "I don't have the time nor the nerve to deal with you. So tell me: what are you here for?"

She tensed and clenched her fists. She met his hard glare with one of her own.


	2. Black Cotton

Chapter Two - Black Cotton

He was the one to break their staring contest; he sighed, took a step back from her and schooled his features into a neutral expression.

"Listen," he said, voice calm and smooth, "I am not here trying to force you into anything, so if you don't want this, then you're free to go." He motioned to the doors, his head tilting to the side.

Maka allowed herself to relax a little as her heart slowed down. She watched him carefully. She should go, definitely, but her feet wouldn't move even as she was eying the door. She should just leave and not spent so much money on sex, she should─oh hell, she didn't want to go!

"I don't want to go."

The sound of her voice surprised them both. He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

There was no hesitation in her reply. "Yes."

* * *

She let out a hiss when his surprisingly soft hands cupped her bra-covered breasts. He hummed and Maka thought, even with the thick, hazy fog clouding her mind, that he sounded very appreciative. She wondered if it was a part of his role, showing praise to a body that he did not find praiseworthy at all. She had never thought her breasts or her body in general were things to fawn over. She was not particularly sexy, never could reach the levels of attractiveness of Liz and Tsubaki with their supermodel physiques. But the way he looked at her and touched her made her shed her self-consciousness, even if he didn't mean it, it was nice to lose herself to the illusion of being sexy.

His hands seemed to be made of fire; whenever a finger grazed her needy flesh, she felt like it was short of flaring. Her breaths were shallow and fast, her heart hammered and pounded and her blood thrummed in her veins like a powerful stream. She was undressed to her underwear whereas he was still fully clothed. A part of her bemoaned the unfairness of it but the other (more dominant) part of her couldn't think of something that was more forgettable as long as he touched her. He kneaded her breasts slowly and attentively, gauging every reaction, calculating every gasp, whine and moan and the smallest release of breath.

His eyes...his deep red eyes never left her body, always on the search. She trembled as his hands roamed down her ticklish sides and gasped when he lowered his face towards hers until she could feel his smouldering breath against her neck. Her pulse was going haywire, roaring in her ears and Maka feared her heart might just leap out of her chest. _And __he __hadn__'__t __done __anything __yet__. _

She couldn't believe she had been missing out on so much in all those years. Was this what a capable man could make her feel? Hot and bothered and eager and nearly begging to be fucked? He knew, he fucking knew where to touch her, had it figured it out all by himself. He was paying attention to her, to her needs only, and the thought that she would have his heated gaze concentrate on her and only on her, his attention on her skin, her muscles and quivering flesh, made her arousal spike.

His lips pressed against her sweaty skin. He took his time, never rushing, waiting for her reaction. Maka would like to hit him for his slow pace, if she were able to think clearly and remember how to move her own limbs.

Yet her body moved for him. She didn't give her hips the command to arch off the mattress and press against him. It was his hands, his sinfully skilled hands made her flesh burn with need and want, and when he let his tongue dart out between his moist lips to lick her heated neck, she shut down thinking altogether. His low chuckles pulled her slightly out of her lustful daze. She registered his hands on the waistband of her panties and that he was now hovering fully over her, the tiny bit of space between their bodies was too much to bear. She wanted to feel him against her. Why was he torturing her like this and prolonging the inevitable? She had never felt this much tension, never had she been so excited and eager for sex. Never had she felt this feverish and hot during foreplay alone.

"Nice panties," he rasped against her ear. She whimpered and pressed her cheek against the comfy pillow underneath her. Oh yeah, her refusal of wearing the matching but much more revealing underwear. Her cotton panties coupled with her lacy bra. She groaned and closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip roughly. He was taking too much time and it was pissing her off. Her eyes opened, flashing with annoyance. "Will you stop playing around and just fuck me? What are you waiting for?"

He blinked, dumbfounded and flabbergasted at her outburst. She belatedly noticed what she had angrily hissed between clenched teeth. Heat invaded her already reddened cheeks and she wanted to vanish in the depths of pillows and sheets and nothingness. His rumbling laughter only increased her embarrassment, his shoulders shaking as his amused voice made her weak in the knees and she found herself being insanely grateful for not standing.

"Fuck you? Gladly. I thought you might want a bit foreplay first," he said, his voice full with amusement.

Maka tried a snort and she was very relieved that it didn't come out as a squeak. "I'm just here for the sex."

Yes, she was, though there was no denying that she wasn't massively enjoying what he had been doing so far, but she feared if this continued her skin was going to disintegrate from the heat in her body.

He touched her neck, his hand large and fingers long and smooth and stroking her small chin. He sighed, sounding somehow disappointed. "Foreplay is a part of it. What kind of men have you been with before?" He shook his head depreciatively, appearing to be oddly affected by the lack of quality performance from the specimens of his own sex.

"None of your business."

"Probably losers in bed, right?" He snickered at her indignant gasp. "Men that care more for their own pleasure than yours, men who couldn't be bothered to pay attention to your needs?"

She wanted to protest, she really wanted to because the few ex-boyfriends she had hadn't been bad people at all, even if their skills in sex could not measure up to his, and she doubted she had been any better than them, but she couldn't speak; words were beyond her comprehension and she simply stared at him, torn between wanting to glare at him and to close her eyes to let him continue.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," he said silkily. His hand grew bolder and bolder, and any irritation she had been feeling towards this vanished. "We will get to the sex eventually. Or do you really want me to stick my dick into you like some graceless oaf without any buildup at all and pay that much money for a lesser service?"

His eyes were imploring and she realized his hands had stopped moving. He was waiting for a response. She bit her lip, took a deep breath and willed herself to speak. "Okay," her voice was strained, thick with lust. "Go ahead. Show me that you're not all talk."

He chuckled lightly, making her bury her nails in the bed sheets beneath her half-naked body. "You're in good hands."

He removed her bra with experienced ease, holding her back up with his strong forearm and discarding it with the use of two fingers. His eyes simmered as he watched her chest attentively, her nipples already hard and ready to be touched. She inhaled deeply when a single finger smoothed down between her breasts, to her rib-bone, her taut stomach, her navel and came to rest on her panties. He played with the elastic, pulling and tugging at it but never once attempting to remove it.

"Very, very good hands." He smirked widely and without any warning pressed his finger against her wet core.

She mewled. Her head dug further into the cushion, her hair plastered on her clammy face. He let out a whistle. "Wow, you're very sensitive. I have barely touched you and you are already so wet."

Oh God, his manner of talking was going to kill her. She bashfully lowered her gaze as his hands travelled up her body and gave their sweet attention to her breasts. They fit perfectly into his palms. He tweaked her nipples, eliciting restrained moans out of her. She didn't dare to look up. She didn't know if she could stand to look into those blazing eyes of his without combusting here and now. But with her eyes screwed shut, she was fucking aware of everything: his hands kneading and groping her tits, the fabric of his pants rustling, his heady breaths ghosting over her sensitive and flushed skin, his knee that was situated dangerously between her thighs, almost pressing against her wetness...and dear God his tongue! His tongue that moved against her nipple, circled it and flicked against it. And his mouth! It was so hot and his teeth were so sharp. It was nearly painful, but it felt so amazing; it was as if they had had slept with each other countless times before and he knew every weak spot that made her timidly beg for more, knew how to move his tongue in a certain way to make her lose her mind, knew how to touch and stroke her to make her gasp.

She was unaware of the lewd noises she released, needy and wanton and encouraging. Her frozen arms on either side of her body finally moved, her fingers buried in his white hair. She pressed him closer, unashamed and fully embracing the pleasurable assault on her senses, enjoying without a care in the world what he was doing to her. She felt his arrogant smirk just against the swell of her tit as he arose, her heated flesh protesting against the sudden gush of cold and goose bumps. She was about to voice her protests when he unbuttoned his shirt and she was silenced into perverted speechlessness, thoroughly relishing in the tan skin that was being revealed bit by bit. She shuddered uncontrollably as he threw the garment away not even looking where it landed, not that she was either. Maka was too transfixed by his nude chest.

Damn, he was fit. He was all hard and wiry muscles. She couldn't contain the gulp when he moved forward and his abs contracted with it. He was oozing self-confidence, all too aware of her amazed eyes on him. The way he grinned was infuriating and embarrassing at the same time, but she didn't have it in herself to care much. She gnawed on her lip as he covered her petite form with his broad-shouldered and tall frame. Their chests pressed together and her hands immediately pulled him further down by his shoulders to diminish any space that was between them. Her hips ground against his crotch but not a sound escaped him. The only thing that gave away that he wasn't totally unaffected by what they were doing were the pants against the shell of her ear.

"Eager, aren't we?" She could only mewl. "When I am through with you, you might not be able to walk properly."

"Confident, aren't we?" she gasped. He laughed throatily and moved a hand between her legs, making her whimper.

"Perhaps my confidence is wholly justified. That and you're so sensitive. You're definitely not going to be able to walk straight."

She almost didn't notice when he pulled her panties off. She watched dazedly as they were slipped over her feet and thrown onto the floor. He ran his hands up the insides of her thighs, spreading her legs further apart. She squealed and draped an arm over her eyes, effectively shielding herself from the view of him moving her limbs his liking. She curiously peeked at him with an eye; his lips were still curled into that irritating smirk even as he was staring at her wet and swollen folds intently. She squirmed but didn't try to close her legs; she had been waiting for what felt like hours for this. He had a firm yet gentle grip on her and kneaded the sensitive flesh of her thighs with circular motions until he became bored and let his nimble hands travel again. They slid up her angled legs and came to her knees and then made their way down to her calves and ankles.

"What...what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

She had a good guess. He pulled her legs up and put them on his shoulders. She felt so on display and she couldn't help but enjoy and hate it at the same time.

He grinned, his sharp teeth bared and glinting in the dim light. "Gonna lick your pussy, what else?"

She let out a pitiful squeal, unable to cope with such lewd and perverse language. She wanted to close her eyes again but his gaze had captivated her, she couldn't look away, his deep clouded eyes wouldn't allow it. Their eye contact never broke─ didn't break when he placed a gentle kiss on her ankle, not even when he trailed a stream of wet hot kisses up the inside of her leg. Her limbs twitched and her heavy breaths were too loud in her ears and...he was so close! Oh God. Was he really going to─

"Ah!"

He spread her folds for his mouth to ravish and lick, his tongue was so long and quick and hot and...and she couldn't take this! In a matter of seconds, her capacity of speech was reduced to whimpers and moans and sobs. He didn't leave any part of her unexplored and was particularly intent on sucking on her swollen clit. Her back arched and her hips bucked against his mouth and he only spread her legs further apart, letting join his hands to the game too. His mouth never leaving her clit, he slid a finger inside her, the movement long and smooth and full of friction. She groaned loudly and thrashed and trembled. She didn't know what he was doing, couldn't see it clearly to find out but he was doing things with his fingers─he wasn't simply sliding them in and out as she had been familiar with. He curled and crooked them, caressed her walls and hit spots she never knew existed in her, never knew that could make her moan like this. How could he know could he know where exactly he needed to touch her to make her react this way?

Her voice was reaching higher octaves, her screams became more desperate and wanton and─

He eyes screwed shut, her lips parted and her legs quivered as her orgasm shook her to the core. Her lungs burned and her hands clawed at the bed sheets tangled against her. Her hips moved, wanting to take in everything before it stopped as his fingers pumped into her and only halted when she fell completely silent, her limbs a lax disarray of flushed skin and spent muscles.

Wow.

Her eyes shot open at his amused chuckles and she only realized now that she had whispered her amazement out loud.

"Told you that you are in good hands. And we aren't even done yet."

They weren't? Right, they weren't!

Maka couldn't wait for more. This man...this rude and shallow man was insanely skilled, knew her body in and out in a matter of a minutes, and she wanted more, wanted to reach the same high, wanted to re-experience that mind-numbing pleasure. Never had she been with a man who could make her come this fast and forcefully, and she didn't care that her legs felt like jelly, didn't care that her chest was heaving like she hadn't had breathed any oxygen for hours and didn't care that she smelled like sweat and sex. She swallowed hard, anticipation and excitement rising in her chest.

She didn't take her eyes off him as he stood up and discarded his pants and sleek boxers; she didn't look away when he pulled a condom over his erection. She took a deep breath as he crawled over her in all his glory and the predatory glint in his eyes that made her breath hitch.

"So how do you want it?" he asked and rubbed his shaft against her over-sensitive folds, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from her. "Like this? Simple missionary? Or would you like it froım behind? Or do you wanna be on top? There is more, but some of it is a bit complicated...but it's your choice. I'm waiting."

She groaned and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Just do it. I don't care." Her voice was muffled and quieter but he understood her well. He grasped her hips and pulled her closer, his tip teasing her wet opening. He grunted.

"Then let's start simple."

And with a final look into her eyes, he pushed into her. She made a strangled yelp, feeling stretched and full and─Oh God. He waited a little, asked her if she was okay and she nodded feebly and then he was moving; his pace, after a few gentle thrusts, became unrelenting and fast, his hands gripped her hips roughly. Her legs, on their own accord, wound around his hips and it wasn't long before she was gone from the world of the fully conscious. He rammed into her forcefully, causing her blood to pound loudly and her heart to pump at a speed that ought to be impossible. Never had she thought she could make noises like that; her voice was high and trembling as she sobbed desperately. Her muscles clenched and her sweat-clicked body shivered with the onslaught of pleasure he was giving her.

He, on the other hand, seemed so in control and never made any other sound besides a deep grunt or an involuntary moan. How could he keep such a pace up without climaxing? It made her feel foolish, being so loud and careless, whereas he was comparably very quiet. The thought flit through her mind only for the barest of a second before, his rhythmic thrusts made her abandon all reason and thought. She had come here to enjoy it, damn it, and if that enjoyment entailed screaming her lungs out, so be it!

This was new. Never had she been fucked like this. So roughly, the pleasure being the only focus of the act. She threw her head back, almost hitting the headboard. She was so close. Just a little more and she was going to─

And she came like she had never come before. Her orgasm shook her whole body, made her back arch and her toes curl and her nails dig into his shoulders ferociously. Her arms and legs quivered, she was unable to control any part of her body, the release a satisfying wave of heat. She never wanted it to end, but she doubted she could keep her sanity if it continued on for longer. Shutting her eyes tightly, she cried out her pleasure, her voice shrill and hoarse from overuse. He released his hold on her and she slumped bonelessly against him before he carefully placed her back on the mattress. She inhaled deeply, feeling hot and clammy and incredibly good.

Whilst she was recovering, he slid out of the bed and discarded the condom in the bathroom. She was still trying to calm down, trying to catch her breath and slow her heart rate down to a more normal level, when he came back still fully naked. Her eyes greedily roamed up and down his body as he casually leaned against the doorframe, unashamed and unbothered by his nudity and her appreciative staring as he proudly stood before her.

"There are still 45 minutes left. What do you want next?"

* * *

After that very sexually satisfying encounter with Soul Evans, everything went back to normal. It was simple, really. Maka Albarn was a very serious and strict woman and she certainly didn't need to see a prostitute again. She was less stressed and could now concentrate on her job again, having already finished the sketches for the Hendersons' new villa. Everything had returned to its usual boring yet normal ways.

She had lasted exactly two weeks before she contacted him again.

Well, she had at least finished the sketch for the new Henderson villa and she was less stressed, but her life was far from normal and boring, and she did not mind this one bit.

The sheets felt pleasantly cold against her heated and sweaty skin, draped haphazardly over her hips, leaving her upper body bare. She was so tired and really didn't want to get up. She glanced at the clock, groaning inwardly. She had spent more than one hour here and he would doubtlessly charge more for it. Yet she was only mildly bothered by that. The approximately 100 minutes she had spent here in the ridiculously large bed letting herself fucked by him had been too good to be bothered about losing more than 500 dollars.

Okay, it was a lot of money but she was tired…and satisfied!

"You can use the shower if you want."

She turned around, not wasting her time with an attempt to cover her chest as she had done so the first few times they had slept together. She moaned tiredly and made a miserable try at sitting up. Her body felt so weak and she would really love to lie in this comfortable bed and sleep for a few weeks. He would never let her, of course, not that she would really do it, but it was a nice thought to entertain.

He strode over to the closet, her eyes never leaving the sight of his ass only covered by a towel. He really had a very nice ass. It ought to be illegal for someone to have such a well-toned rear.

"You should hurry up. My next customer is going to come in an hour. Maybe the 45 minutes extra were too much. I don't know if I'll be able to clean up in time. I should call the room service to get the sheets changed."

She blinked drowsily as she finally heaved herself in a sitting position, the red silk sheet sliding down her body smoothly when she stood up. "Fine, I'll hurry. Can I have a towel?"

"Sure."

She readily stretched her arm out, waiting for him to hand her a fresh towel or at least expecting to get instructions where to get one. She didn't know if he wanted to joke around or really meant it when he slid the white towel that had seconds before clung to his hips snugly and held it out in front of her, letting it dangle from his fingertips. She gaped, dumbfounded and taken aback. Her eyes narrowed as a derisive grin spread on his face, making her scrunch up her nose at his rudeness.

"Don't you want it?" he asked, jiggling it close to her face for good measure.

Her mouth opened and closed before she found her enraged voice to give an appropriate answer. "I am going to pay you lots of money and I don't even get a fresh towel?"

He shrugged. "You are paying me for sex, not for towels. Maybe I should charge for showers and towels too." He tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Besides, you're getting another unlimited view of my superb physique, consider this as an exchange of sorts."

Her gaze flickered down and she was too slow on noticing his chuckles at her shameless ogling and silent acceptance of the _exchange_. Her cheeks reddened when she was met with his infuriating grin.

Maka growled and snatched the towel quickly away, mentally cursing herself for being such a pervert. "You're impossible."

He just chuckled behind her as she made her way to the bathroom. It was a very nice bathroom. It was – as everything else here – very spacious, it had a bathtub, in which three people could easily fit into, as well as a nice shower and the tiles were done in a mosaic style, onyx and eggshell-white tiles interchanging symmetrically. She was quickly done with her shower, his words still ringing in the back her mind. She really didn't want to be here when his next customer arrived.

Initially, she had been very disgusted by the idea that just an hour after her another woman was going to take her place in the same bed with the same guy, but she had more or less come to terms with it. He was a prostitute after all and a very attractive man (not to mention exceptionally good in bed and extremely skilled with his tongue…) so she shouldn't be expecting anything less. She briefly wondered how many women in total came to him.

He was already dressed when she emerged from the steaming bathroom, the towel wrapped securely around her slim body.

"Your clothes are on the chair over there," he motioned into the direction absently, not sparing her a glance. Letting the towel fall down softly, she quickly pulled her underwear on and then slid into her black pencil skirt and eventually pulled on her white blouse. She frowned slightly as she put her high heels on, wincing and cringing as she squeezed her feet into the narrow confines of the shoes.

"I think I should leave now," she called out, her purse and some-hundred dollar bills readied.

He came over to her his eyes set into a scowl as he barked one last order at the maid, who was changing the sheets of his bed. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.

"Wouldn't it be easier for you to have your…uh meetings at your place instead of in a hotel room. It would be cheaper too," she said matter-of-factly, handing him his money.

"I will never let a customer into my apartment," he scoffed, counting the numerous bills slowly. "Consider this room my office. Letting customers over to my place would mean mixing up my private life and my job. Don't really need that, besides I don't want my customers to get to know where I live, I want my privacy and letting practically a stranger into my apartment is out of question. You never know what kind of crazy people live out there."

"Ah, I see. I hope you don't see me as a potential murderer or something."

"Eh…I don't know, you look harmless but—" he smirked at her slight glare and continued without hesitation, "you could probably strangle me when you are in a bad mood or bludgeon me with one of your books." He snickered when she smacked his arm with her purse and harrumphed at his teasing words. "Sorry, sorry. So…see you next Saturday, same time as ever?"

She grumbled about his impoliteness and penchant for putting her down with the stupidest of remarks but nevertheless said in a clipped tone: "Yes. See you at 8pm."

"Good." He accompanied her to the door and held it open for her like a gentleman, which he was not.

"Goodbye, Miss Albarn."

Her smile was faint yet genuine as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Goodbye, Mister Evans. See you next week."

* * *

For the past two months, she would go to room number 521 in the Grace Grande Hotel and have the most amazing night in her entire week. It made her a bit annoyed with herself that she apparently was so sex-crazed, but it was just too good to let it go.

She was already in his web of seduction and sensuality and escape was improbable if not impossible. When she dreamed in the nights, she dreamed of cool red silk underneath her and his hot skin sliding against her from above. She always looked very forward to their meetings because it was the only time she allowed herself to kick back and avoid thinking about the drag that sometimes was her life.

She loved her life and her friends and her job, she had a nice apartment in a pleasant neighbourhood, and she earned enough money to make life easy for her, not having to bother with wrecking her nerves about her finances. But sometimes when she felt like she was being overwhelmed by workload, she really cherished those weekly meetings with Soul Evans. It helped her to relax, and he made her feel good and never once had he failed to please her.

It was still nice to have a break from all of that and going to Soul Evans and getting no-strings-attached sex was as expensive as it was highly enjoyable. She really was glad that she earned a lot of money or she would never have been able to afford going to him every week. A part of her did feel guilty about spending so much money on something she would also be able to get without having to pay for it, but she was wary of relationships and they weren't her top priority in life anyway. With relationships always came a huge responsibility and the risk of becoming very vulnerable and totally exposed, something she always feared.

She didn't necessarily want to share everything with a partner, and admittedly in some parts, the root of this was some trust issues, and another part that she was a private person.

With Soul Evans there was no responsibility besides providing the money and she was strangely comfortable with that.

Liz assured her that she just hadn't met the right guy yet and she was certainly going to find the love of her life someday, even though Liz herself barely ever had long-term relationships. She could recall how Liz had once told her that the longest relationship she had was her first in high school.

Maka didn't care much about being single, she was happy and content with her life, even though there sometimes was a _small_ twinge of wistful envy whenever Tsubaki talked about her boyfriend Mifune. He had also adopted a cute girl named Angela a few years ago, and Tsubaki even though not being her legal guardian, was like a mother to the girl. It really was a matter of time until Tsubaki and Mifune got married.

Sure, it would be nice to have someone to love with such passion and be loved equally in return, but as of now she considered such a relationship as a nice bonus if it ever happened, not an important goal in life.

The ringing of her cell phone brought her out of her reverie; she quickly picked it up, holding it to her ear, already knowing who it was. "Yes, Tsubaki?"

"Hello, Maka. How are you? Liz told me you got a new assignment. I hope they aren't as demanding as the married couple from before."

She laughed lightly, appreciating her considerate friend's worries. "No, no. I think this time, I'll be alright. They don't seem to be so picky. I am actually almost done with that! I already showed them the sketch designs and they like it so far. I have to transfer the sketches to the computer and refine them, so that I can submit them to council for detailed design. And I don't know how long it will take them to assess the DA…what Mr. Knight wants isn't that complex, but I don't know how many applications the council is assessing and—ah, sorry I am babbling about stuff that doesn't make any sense to you."

"Don't worry about it. It's fine." Tsubaki giggled heartily and Maka could picture her kind and sheepish expression already.

"What about you, Tsubaki? Anything new?"

"Actually…yes."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really? What is it? You sound a bit….I don't know…almost uncomfortable."

"What? No, I am very happy…but—"

"But what?"

She heard her friend's gentle laugh over the phone, her curiosity rising to damnable levels.

"It's just that…Mifune, he…he asked me if I wanted to become the legal guardian of Angela, if I want to adopt her as my daughter."

Maka gasped loudly, clutching her phone into a tighter grip. "Tsubaki, that's…great! What did you tell him? You said yes, didn't you?"

The girl sighed, making Maka expect bad news. "I told him that I have to think about it. I mean I am 26 and I love Angela and Mifune very much but becoming a… a mother wasn't something I had planned, you know?"

"But then again, you're already like a mother to her. Adopting her wouldn't make anything different, I think, only lots of paper work to make it official."

"Maybe…but I didn't want to say 'yes' without putting any thought into it. I really have to think this through."

Maka nodded, "Yes, I understand, you don't want to rush into it. What did Mifune say?"

"Oh, he wasn't disappointed or angry or anything like that. He was very understanding about it."

Although she couldn't see Tsubaki's face, there was no doubt about it that she was smiling that cute and shy smile of hers at the mentioning of her boyfriend. And there was it again, that slight twinge inside Maka's chest, tugging at her heart weakly, making her envy her friend about her happiness and her wholesome family.

"Can we meet this week?"

She blinked, green eyes hazy and unfocused. "What? Oh, meet up? Sure we can. When would you like to meet…and where?"

"Umm…how about Saturday at 7?"

"Sure! No wait─ I can't. Not at that time."

"Why? Do you have something planned already? You're usually free on Saturdays."

"Yeah, I know but…you see—" she awkwardly scratched her cheek. How was she going to explain this? Tsubaki still didn't know that she had begun to regularly meet a hooker on the day that was normally reserved for them but her friend had been very busy the last two months and thus Maka had never gotten the chance to make it clear that Saturday evenings were now put aside for someone else. 7 pm would be too late: she needed to shower and get ready and drive to the hotel and if the traffic was her enemy that day she wouldn't make it on time. He was prissy about tardiness and Maka couldn't really deal with his bad mood, although he seemed to be a lot more passionate in bed whenever he was angry. She squeaked and slapped a hand against her forehead. She couldn't honestly be thinking about sex when her friend was on the phone trying to converse with her.

"Are you going to meet someone else?" Tsubaki sounded sneaky. She had the uncanny ability to sound like a saint in one moment and like a total pervert in the next without even trying.

"Y-yes."

She squealed in delight. "You have a date!"

"Eh…no. It is not a date." _At __least __not __the __kind __of __date __you __expect__, _she added inwardly.

"Oh."

"Don't worry about that, we can meet up a few hours earlier if that's okay with you."

"Of course. I don't mind either way."

Maka smiled slightly, "Good, then how about 5 pm?"

"Sounds good to me. Oh and Maka?"

"Yes, Tsubaki."

"I want to hear every juicy detail. You're meeting that prostitute Liz was talking about, aren't you?"

She froze, her fingers growing numb with how firmly she was squeezing her phone. "You-you know?"

"Of course, I do. Did you really think I wouldn't remember that Liz gave you his number?"

"Actually…yes," she admitted shyly, fidgeting nervously, feeling abashed and small and slightly surprised at her normally timid friend's daring words. She sighed, a blush tinting her cheeks a pale rosy colour. "Usually you don't remember anything whenever you've drunk that much."

"Oh, but there's no way I could forget that. I'm so curious!"

"Sometimes you're by far more perverse than Liz, you know that, Tsubaki?"

A devious giggle was all the reply Maka got. She was going to have a very interesting Saturday.

* * *

A/N: Yes! The smut has begun! :D I hope you enjoyed this smutty chapter. Also, if you are interested in an awesome supernatural, wildwest!AU, you must read Aurelius by adulterclavis, I have put the story under my favourites if you want to have a look at it. I am not sure if I mentioned this before but I have a tumblr now, the link is on my profile, feel free to follow me of you want :)


	3. Maroon Eyes

A/N: I'm really sorry how long this update took me. I have admittedly not thought about this one a lot. I hope the next chapters will come faster than this one. And as always, I hope you enjoy this chapter and leave me some feedback :D

* * *

Chapter Three - Maroon Eyes

"You're advertising me," he chuckled, his breaths hitting her sweaty spine as she was still coming down from her high. "That is very nice of you, trying to get me more customers."

"I am not! Tsubaki just wanted to—" she gasped, losing her train of thoughts when he came to hover above her and rub her folds from behind. "—she…she was just curious. Th-that's…mmm…all."

"Really?"

"Yes, d-definitely….and she's been in stable relationship…f-for…ah!...For almost seven years."

"You are so cute."

There wasn't much she could think of to say, spluttering about how he needed to stop mocking her, but her mind was occupied. He laughed throatily at her wavering voice, his lips coming to rest against the sensitive shell of her ear as he fed her with dirty promises that threatened to melt her bones. He ran a hand over her rear, making her bury her face into the pillow beneath her, nearly her entire face vanishing in the depths of silk and softness.

He gave her ass a light slap, if it could even be called that. It was more a of a grope, but she could only gasp and stutter out her indignation out but all anger drained from her when he commenced stroking her intimately, slowly, pressing against her wetness with skilled and nimble fingers, successfully wiping her mind clear. He scoffed. "I'm taking it back then. You're far too temperamental to be cute." He grinned cheekily when a certain flick of a finger made her jump and her voice quiver with little moans, she so stubbornly refused to let out. Not that she was going to be able this quiet when he got to the main part of his show. Even if she didn't want to admit it, she was a screamer and a fierce one at that. Just the way he liked it. "You know, a lot of married woman come to me. Just because your friend happens to be in a sort-of marriage doesn't mean that it excludes her from my clientele."

"She would…nnnever…do—"

"What was that? You're a little hard to understand. Is there something hindering you from talking properly?"

"Screw you."

"Nah, although it is a very difficult decision and I don't want to turn myself down, I think it's wiser to screw you, since you're going to pay me and all."

She whimpered pitifully when he pulled his finger out of her slickness. This woman was definitely one of his more interesting clients. He had lots of customers, none of them unattractive but some of them were really boring. Not that it mattered much; their personalities, as long as he finished his job and they paid him in return, could range from the sweet to the obnoxious for all he cared. However, an amusing customer promised more to look forward to than merely the money. Granted, he was mainly here for the cash but why not have a fun night along the way?

She was so stubborn and seemed to be revolted by what she was letting him do with her, but she always came again. He had so much fun unraveling this prudish and uptight nerd because she always ended up enjoying it, not that Soul would be satisfied if he ever left a customer not fully pleased. Deep, deep down, she was a naughty little pervert that hadn't fully awoken yet, and it made something stir in his chest, something that felt too close to excitement. He decided to bury this sentiment under a thick layer of professionalism lest it became troublesome.

He grinned as he studied her sweaty form. She had a fine body, in spite of lacking the tit-size he usually preferred. But other than that, her body was in great shape, her waist thin and beautifully arched, her ass was wonderfully firm and nicely shaped, her mile-long legs smooth and strong, her skin was so soft and devoid of any blemishes; it was not completely pale as she had some tan lines but this only made her more appealing. Her legs were definitely her main draw though.

With a devious curl of his lips, he grasped her by the waist, pulling her up and making her kneel in front of him. He had to admit that the view was amazing: her on all fours, in front of him and her rear bared. Had he said that her legs were her best features? Maybe he should take that back. Her ass was very nice too. Oh well, legs versus ass: they were evenly matched.

"What are you doing?!"

"Um, this is the part in which I thrust my co—"

"I know but—" she swatted his hands away and turned around to face him, her bright eyes marred by a troubled frown. " – I…I have never…"

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her sudden shyness. "What?" Her gaze was cast down bashfully, her teeth nervously digging into her bottom lip and her hands clenched in front of her body. A tense moment of silence made him hold his breath; he wanted to say something but she beat him to it. Her head suddenly snapped up, her fierce green eyes, meeting his deep red ones determinedly. "I have never….used this position…before, okay?"

He blinked dubiously, letting her words sink in carefully. His lips twitched at her wavering bravery and the word just bubbled up in his throat, dying to be uttered.

Cute.

He was confused. He never thought Maka Albarn could ever be capable of displaying some vulnerability so openly. She was always so confident, so certain of herself. He had to admit he found her outspokenness admirable, and even appreciated. Nothing annoyed him more when people couldn't blurt out what they were really thinking. He grimaced and then schooled his face into a neutral expression.

"Look, I won't do anything you are not comfortable with. Don't worry about that."

"O-okay", she nodded timidly, a protective hand raised in front of her.

"But just think about it. All we have been doing the past months was the missionary position. There is so much more I can show you."

"I…I like what we have done so far. I don't know if it needs to change." She shortly glanced down before she hesitantly met his eyes again.

"Hmm…I will do as you want. If you don't want to, I am not going to urge you or anything, but I can assure you, even though you liked everything we have done so far, you haven't seen or felt anything yet. I could give you ten times more pleasure. By using different positions, you will see how the different angles coming with them make the sex more exciting and varied."

Her lips twitched into a faint smile as she looked up, her eyes wide and open. "You sound like a telemarketer."

Soul scoffed, hiding his little smirk behind his hand as he pretended to rub his jaw. "What do you say? Do you want to try this or not?"

Another silence followed and this time he had no desire to break it. He would wait for her decision as long as she needed. He wanted her to be completely sure, didn't want to force her into anything. He never treated his customers badly, which had less to do with the money and more with the fact that he wasn't a dick; he considered himself a decent person and persuading a woman, who was clearly not comfortable with a particular sexual act, only because he was growing bored with routine, was not something he was going to do. But he wanted her to know that there was more to sex than what she had experienced so far. Knowing the options now, it was her command he was going to follow.

"I…okay. Let's do it differently this time." Her voice was steadier, more sure as she spoke, and it made him relax a little.

He smirked and carefully guided her into the previous position. She was trembling slightly, making him falter and stroke her hipbone comfortingly. "Is this really okay with you?"

She nodded jerkily and mumbled, "Yes."

He decided at that moment that he would go slower this time for a change. He grasped her hips and brought her a few inches closer.

* * *

Boy, was she glad that she had agreed to this. From this different angle, he hit a spot that made her keen and sob desperately. Once again, she had been reduced into a quivering mess of sweaty skin and wanton moaning. His hold on her hips was firm, his pace was a bit slower than usual but she didn't mind, the pleasure was still as mind-numbing as ever. She was sure she was going to rip the pillow into tiny little slices with the way she clutched it. Her voice was hoarse and only grew hoarser with every thrust.

What was he doing?

His hand started to wander; her brain was clouded over from the pleasure he was giving her, and she was unable to think about the motives of his treacherous hand. He let it rest on her shoulder for a few seconds before he let it slide to the front of her sweat-slicked body, cupping her breast and playing with her nipple. She closed her eyes and moaned raggedly, leaning her forehead against the headboard, definitely needing it in order not to have her upper body pummeling clumsily onto the welcoming mattress.

His other hand, which had been safely resting on her hip, steadying her, now began its own journey on her body. It found its destination between her trembling thighs, his fingers swiftly swiftly seeking out her clit and not wasting time to make proper use of his find. He caressed the nub in accordance with his thrusts, and Maka just couldn't take it anymore without his hand steadying her. Her arms couldn't support her body anymore, and she tiredly rested her head on the mattress. He, however, seemed to be far from stopping his actions. Taking his hand from her tit, he took her by the hip and angled her rear up and then started to pound into her again.

It felt slightly different than before, but it was still amazing, although she found this position vaguely more embarrassing with her ass practically in the air and her upper body dropped down like a heavy sack of potatoes.

Her moaned encouragements reached a new high, making her vision go blank for a moment. His rhythmic thrusts accompanied with the stimulation of her clit didn't leave much room for another reaction. Her face dug deeper into the pillow as one particular thrust made her go over the edge roughly. She turned her head sideways, afraid she might be unable to breathe because of how violently she was pressing against the defenseless pillow.

Her voice was ripped out of her throat, her lungs, her skin flaring, and she knew this was something she was never going to be able stop seeking.

* * *

She closed her eyes softly when he slid out of her and made his usual way to the bathroom. She could hear his faint grumbles, cursing the coldness of the floor, and the light slapping of his bare feet against the mosaic tiles.

She had somehow managed to regain her bearings by the time he returned and plopped onto the bed. There was a considerable distance between them, easily accomplished by the width of the mattress. He folded his arms under his head as a makeshift pillow, although an actual pillow would have certainly been a lot more comfy.

She always felt awkward after the sex. Fortunately, they would rest like this in silence for 15 minutes or so before they started again. A bit of rest was good for the both of them, but the silly small talk she usually tried to incite was often lost on him as he preferred to answer her with one-worded replies or merely a move of his head or a simple sound. At least, this was the case whenever he wasn't teasing her because then he didn't seem to know how to shut up. She frowned lightly.

"Tell me when you're ready to go again, okay?"

He regarded her with lazy eyes. She found them very mesmerizing, such a rich deep red, often the cause of a burning need inside her. She absentmindedly bit her lip, her frown vanishing, and used the peaceful minutes to enjoy the view of his body. She wasn't sure how he did it, how he had made her agree to…to trying doggy-style as Liz would have indelicately put it. Never had she entertained the idea of using such an…obscene position during intercourse. Liz liked to call her a prude and too stiff, but Maka had never paid her much attention.

Calling it back to mind what she had done, what she had allowed him to do with her, partly embarrassed her and partly aroused her; having him pound into her from behind with no eye contact whatsoever….doing it like…like animals without a care of how she was exposing herself.

But it had felt amazing, and it was difficult to feel any regret or shame, no matter how much the prude in her struggled to resurface. Why had she always resisted the alternatives during sex again? It was beyond her grasp right now. He said he could show her and make her feel so much more. That alone was enough to make her shudder with anticipation, as if what she had already experienced thanks to him was just a beginners-course in sex. What kind of things could he show her? She wanted to know. She needed to know. She was paying him a lot of money, so why not use it to its full extent?

That carefully and deeply hidden part of her flared to life with a vengeance, burning the boring prude in her into a pile of imaginary ashes and dust. She swallowed thickly, tilting her head up slowly.

"You ready?" his husky voice made a heady warmth bubble in the pit of her belly. She crawled across the mattress, the silky sheets below her moving with her until she stopped just a few inches in front of him, close enough to feel the heat of his body. He blinked curiously, his attention fully on her now. She gulped again, quite noisily, and gathered all her determination and urged her voice to cooperate.

"You…you said there was a lot more you can show me," she began, steeling her voice and rubbing her elbow softly to give her hands something to do or she knew she would start to fiddle with her fingers. He shifted a bit, the sound of the sheets moving and rustling very loud in the thick silence of the room.

"And?"

"Well, what exactly can you show me?" she asked, nervous and inquisitive at the same time.

"Oh? Didn't I tell you you wouldn't regret trying out new things?" He grinned suggestively, raising a questioning eyebrow at her. "I can you show a lot of stuff. What would you like to hear first?"

"I…don't know. I'm not exactly well-versed with stuff like this."

"I already figured that one out."

"Hey!" she gasped huffishly and smacked his shoulder; despite the fact she knew how she had acted and that such a conclusion on his part was justified, she couldn't help but feel offended.

"What? I am just stating the truth. It was obvious since the first time we had sex that you are a prude and have very limited experience. I almost thought you were a virgin for a moment and was about to turn you away."

She gritted her teeth forcefully, his words making a mismatch of emotions rise within her. She wanted to hit him again yet wanted to jump him once more; she wanted to take her clothes and leave immediately to never come back and mourn her lost sense of propriety, but at the same time couldn't suppress her damnable curiosity. Even if he was right about her, did he have to mention these things when she was trying so hard to gather all her courage to ask him for all of this? Deciding that acts of violence were certainly not going to help her in any way, she settled for breathing deeply in and out to rein her temper in.

"Anyway, where do you want to start?"

She blinked, feeling extremely foolish as her anger dissipated completely. How should she know where to start? Hadn't he just put her and her sexual inexperience down and now he expected her to easily tell him what she wanted him to do with her? Couldn't he just pick something and explain to her how it was done? It would certainly save time.

"Uh…what are my options?

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, there are a lot of options." He held a hand up. "We could do the Italian Chandelier, the Passion Propeller, the Bootyful View, the Carnal Crisscross, the Pinwheel, the Arc de Triomph, the Sideways Samba, the Couch Canoodle, the Dirty Dangle, even the Lusty Leg Lift as you seem to be very flexible I think…" he trailed off, counting every name on one hand. Maka giggled and hid a snort behind her hand.

"…and if you wanna try your hand being on top there is the Love Seat, the Hot Hula, the Bucking Bronco, the Supernova, the Backup Boogie, the Joystick Joyride and—"

"Okay, okay. I get it, there's a lot!" She let out a laugh, an inelegant snort escaping her, "Really though? Joystick Joyride?!"

"How rude of you to interrupt me and I wasn't even halfway done," he smirked, adding with a disgruntled voice, "I also didn't come up with the names, so yeah."

"Let's start with something simple," she said, willing her heart to calm.

"You're kinda vague."

"Just pick something!"

"Fine." His lips curled into the mother of all shit-eating grins and made her almost regret her words. He crawled over to her, his hands coming to rest on her tiny waist. Her breath hitched at having him so close to her again, their chests almost touching. She had the urge to close the space between them completely and was about to do so when he suddenly flipped her flat on her stomach.

"Oof. Be careful!"

He laughed darkly, he would have made a really great cartoon villain with those giddy rumbles of laughter, she noted glumly. "I got the impression that you actually like it rough."

"What….a lame comeback."

"Hah! You are not denying it. You so are a masochist."

She spluttered. "I….I am so not!"

"Correction: you are a closet masochist."

She growled lowly, ready to turn around to show him what she thought of his smartassery. But any remark she might have had on her tongue was gone when he positioned himself above her.

"What? What are we…you going to do?"

"Put your hands here," he said, taking her wrists and guiding them to lie in front of her, "And stay down, okay?"

She nodded weakly, anticipation and need taking over her body. It was the same signs as ever, her blood rushing through her body, her heart rate picking up in speed and her eyes clouding over and darkening with desire. He spread her legs a little and stretched his body over hers his elbows right next to her shoulders supporting his weight. His chest came to rest on her back; it wasn't uncomfortable though, nor was he making himself too heavy. Although she couldn't see him properly and what he was up to, she could feel and hear him and it only increased her excitement, especially when his erection brushed against her rear but then—"

"You…you are hopefully not going to put it into…into my butt."

He shifted against her, adjusting himself and his mouth found her ear. His breaths were hot and heavy and made the small hairs on her skin rise. "No, don't worry. Someone as inexperienced and shy as you isn't probably up for anal sex. We could, however, give it a try when you're ready."

She didn't say anything in return because he was easing his dick slowly inside her slick warmth. Her eyes closed and her breath hitched at the familiar sensation.

"Now, close your legs and cross them at the ankles."

"Huh?"

"Your ankles….you have to cross them."

"B-but isn't it going to be too tight for you to move then?"

He chuckled against her ear, his lips softly feathering the sensitive skin there. "Just trust me."

She did as she was told with minor complaints. Oh God, she could feel everything of him, all of her senses being invaded by everything that was him: his hair tickling her neck, the faint musky smell what had to be the wavering traces of his cologne, his mouth at the shell of her ear, breathing obscene words into her, his chest, his nipples, the clenching and relaxing of his muscles, their arms and legs brushing against each other with his rocking and the adventurous hand that trailed underneath her to cup her breast. She mewled and panted for him, his close proximity only enhancing the noises that vibrated in her ribcage. It was as if they were melded together, she didn't know where her body stopped and where his started.

The new – the utterly marvelous – sensations left her brain reeling and all reason cloud over with a thick mist of elated pleasure. She only caught the half – if even that – of his sensual promises, whispered and moaned in a deep husky voice, promises of how this was only the beginning, of how he was going to give her so much of how he was going to fuck her senseless.

She couldn't wait for it.

* * *

"Maka! You must listen to this track," Liz waved her hand excitedly, the ridiculously large headphones sticking against her head awkwardly.

Maka sighed exasperatedly. They had been spending what felt like hours in this newly opened music shop in the city. "Liz, I don't like that kind of music."

"Still! Give it a try. It is really good, it's like my ears are having multiple orgasms." She squealed excitedly, causing Maka to cringe but smile at the same time. Her childish glee was contagious. She was sort of glad that Liz had come over and demanded she finally leave her apartment. "I mean you have to broaden your horizon, Maka. The only stuff you listen to is trance fusion, which is…uh—"

"What do you have against trance fusion? Whenever we go clubbing, you love the music there."

"Yes, yes but I am drunk then. Besides, trance and techno and similar stuff isn't really the music to listen to when you're on your own."

"And why not? I listen to it all the time."

"Then your taste in music obviously sucks."

Both turned around at the new voice cutting into their conversation so rudely. Maka gasped; she knew this voice and how she knew it. It was the same that would growl lowly whenever their bodies joined, the same that made her fill with a made craving, made her swallow and sweat with giddy anticipation, the same that would always annoy her with teasing remarks.

"Soul!"

"Yo, what's up, Liz."

Liz smiled brightly as she walked over to him, carelessly letting the headphones dangle from its thin cord, and hugged him cordially. He patted her on the back before she pulled away, eyes bright and twinkling happily.

"It's good to see you again, Soul. What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to check this new music store."

"It's great! They have a lot of more unknown artists here. I have been listening to the album of this newcomer, Miles Davidson."

"Cool. I wanted to listen to it too. Maybe you should give it a try, too?" he raised an eyebrow at her, startling Maka. She wanted to say something, anything, but this moment seemed too surreal right now.

Liz eyed her curiously, before she smiled at Soul. "Maka doesn't usually listen to this kind of music. Hey, did you listen to this one yet?" Liz thrust some record into his hands and Maka felt eternally grateful for not having his attention anymore. Even though his glance had only grazed her for a few forgettable seconds, her skin flared with desire, making her forget her vexation about having her taste in music insulted.

She clutched her bag close to her chest, watching the two friends exchange pleasantries and recommendations; she heard names that she only vaguely knew and that didn't tell her much. As she shifted from foot to foot, they seemed to forget about her existence altogether. She wondered if they were more than friends. Liz had a lot of flings, so maybe she wasn't bothered by the fact that her boyfriend was a prostitute and was bedding countless women.

She shook her head slightly. No, Liz would have told her this if that was or had been the case. But still. She couldn't help but feel…she didn't know how she felt. It was weird for the lack of a better word. At least, Liz wasn't making those thinly veiled allusions for her perverse amusement about what she and Soul Evans did every Saturday.

Maka fidgeted uneasily and awkwardly glanced around as he laughed heartily at something Liz said. He patted her shoulder and she playfully pushed against his chest with a coy wink. They seemed so comfortable in each other's presence and they appeared to have a lot in common from what she could tell. At least, their taste in music was apparently the same. Their affable conversation, their inside jokes and the slight touches they shared from time to time made her feel left out.

Giving up hope that her friend would eventually notice her predicament that she was being very chummy with her prostitute and that she had no idea what to make of the strange situation, she sighed shakily and tapped Liz finally on the shoulder with a finger.

"Huh? Oh, what is it Maka?"

"I…should go."

"Aw, why? We just came here."

"I don't feel well and I have still so much work to do."

"Ah, alright. Then rest before you tackle your work, okay?"

"Okay."

With that she hastily turned away from the duo, refusing to meet his gaze and made a quick exit.

* * *

The next time she went to him, she just had to ask him about it:

"Was there something between you and Liz in the past?"

He blinked, closing the door behind her inaudibly, slightly confused by her question. "No. We're just friends."

"Yeah but—" why was she getting so worked up over this; it pissed her off not knowing the source of her anger. "—but you seemed to be so…so…" she stopped and sighed in defeat.

"Don't tell me you're jealous?" His voice was light and arrogant. "Don't get your hopes high. I am only sleeping with you for the money and I have a few rules I strictly adhere to. The first and most important: never date a customer."

Maka snorted and threw him a fiery glare over her narrow shoulder. "Don't think so highly of yourself, Mr. Evans," she spat, holding her chin up haughtily and squaring her shoulders defiantly. "I just don't want to screw a guy who has been already with one of my friends."

"Hell no. As I said Liz and I are friends. My second rule is: never offer your services to a friend and never accept a friend as a customer. So no chance of that."

When they reached the bedroom, she briskly shed her heavy cloak and draped it unceremoniously onto a plush chair. "Since when…do you know each other?" Her fingers found the hem of her sweater, anxiously fiddling with it, refusing to discard it until she got an answer.

"Since high school," he replied nonchalantly. "She was already a senior when I started high school, and she was...she was-nevermind. Patti and I were in the same grade."

"Oh, you know Patti, too?"

"Just told you so, didn't I?"

She frowned. "You and Liz seemed to be more like just having 'occasionally' hung around."

The right corner of his mouth quirked up as he approached her, causing her breath to catch in her throat and her face to heat up. His hands were at her sweater in an instant, pulling it over her head and tossing it away. She shuddered.

"You can be so cute, you know that?"

Her blush deepened and her eyes found the soft carpet more interesting than him. "I…I thought I was too temperamental to be cute."

He slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her pale skin for his shimmering eyes to relish in. "You're kind of cute when you are jealous."

Her red blouse, which was eerily similar in colour to his eyes, was pushed from her shoulders; she gasped as his warm hands brushed against her sensitive skin, making her almost forget his…his accusation.

"I'm…not jealous."

"Sure."

"I'm serious!"

"So am I."

She groaned, her annoyance only fueling his amusement and making his grin stretch wider on his handsome face. She gave up and sank against him, his strong arms preventing her from falling down as he undressed her. It was completely silent in the room, only the rustling of their clothes making every now and then a noise. He took her by her hand, leading to his bed. She moaned and sobbed her pleasure, the awkwardness of their conversation forgotten and not to be mentioned again as she became lost in his world of sensuality and passion and red silk.

It was only in retrospect that Maka became aware of the fact that this had been the first time he had told her something about himself, however little it might have been.

* * *

Maybe he was treading dangerous waters. Nah. He had enough control over himself. Maka Albarn had definitely become his favourite client. From Liz he knew that she was an architect─ a pretty successful one at that. She was smart, Liz had assured him, finishing college early only to embark on a career that had made her a big name. He respected hard work and he especially respected intelligence. Finishing college early? Seriously? And she had financed everything by herself, which meant that she must have worked part-time. He definitely respected such studiousness.

Unfortunately, he couldn't boast such academic accomplishments or zeal in his life, although he had been given the chances to do so. He scowled. It made him falter a bit in his movements, a slight, forgettable disappointment stilling his concentration. It was gone as soon as it had come, his features easing into a comfortable grin.

"What? I am supposed to put my legs there?"

"Yep."

"But…but…then I'm practically going to do a headstand when we're…"

"So? You knew this before we started. You were the one who felt challenged by a sex position."

Her aggravated face was his favourite. Her eyes would practically flash with her irritation. It was as if Maka Albarn never did by anything by halves, and being angry was one of them. He had never seen someone so passionate with emotions, so passionate with chagrin. Whenever she gave him one of her flesh-eroding glares, he couldn't resist the temptation to rile her up more, although her eyelids might have been equipped with poison-tipped projectiles for all he knew. The sex always ended up being amazing, reminding him how awesome his job was and particularly she was his favourite customer.

"I am going to do this….shit! I'm going to fall!"

"You have to hold my thighs if you don't wanna fall, idiot."

"But─"

"Don't worry," he said smoothly. rubbing her hip comfortingly. She relaxed a little, but her eyes were still gleaming with that spark he adored so much. She was so stubborn yet determined, never one to back down. He respected that too.

He uttered the words that would become his undoing, "Just trust me."

* * *

She shouldn't have gone out during her lunch break after all. Maka pulled her coat closer, having thought it unnecessary to button it. When she had made that decision she was terribly regretting as the violent gushes of wind kept hitting her, it hadn't been snowing yet. She had been too lost in her thoughts to pay attention to what was taking place outside the cozy little café just a few blocks away from the office building she was working in. She cursed under her breath, a white mist coming out in between parted and bluish lips.

At least she hadn't forgotten to put on her gloves, if only in order to protect her hand from getting burned because the cheap paper cup that was holding her black coffee did a miserable job at keeping the heat of it inside. She could barely look straight ahead, snowflakes that she had often used to admire as 'pretty' were striking her eyes like strategically aimed missiles.

"Oof."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

Of course, it had to happen. A shitty day in the life of Maka Albarn couldn't be complete if she, during her struggle to reach her office as fast as possible, didn't run against an unsuspecting person and spilled her hot coffee on him to boot.

She forced her head up even if her eyes burned with the attack of hostile snowflakes. "I am truly sorry. It's just I couldn't see anything and was careless and—" her eyes widened. No this couldn't be. "Soul….eh, I mean Mr. Evans?"

He blinked, his head tilting to one side quizzically. "It is quite alright, Miss. The weather is truly horrendous...and did you just say Soul?"

She squinted and stared scrutinized the man, whom she believed to be the prostitute she was seeing once a week. But looking at him now, she saw the differences, which weren't that many. His voice was definitely different, not as gruff as Soul Evans'; their faces were similar, too similar for it to be a mere coincidence or a stupid trick of her eyes. This man's eyes were a darker shade of red, more like a maroon than an outright ruby red but other than that she couldn't discern any striking differences. Maybe it was because she could barely see anything because of the snowstorm or maybe because such an intense level of resemblance really did exist between them.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I think I mistook you for someone different."

"I…" he began but then hissed as a particularly strong gust of wind assaulted them. Maka squeaked and dropping the useless paper cup, pulled her coat tightly against her body with both hands to shield herself, her eyes squinting shut and her small frame trembling. "Let us get inside."

She didn't have a choice here, did she? Taking shelter sounded like a good idea right now. She aimlessly followed him as he made his way to the grocery store that was the closest to them; a mass of freezing people overcrowding the shop already and waiting for the raging storm outside to subside.

She huffed tiredly as she slumped against a wall, the warmth against her cold skin not being as pleasant as she had hoped. Now that her eyesight was free from murderous snowflakes she took a good look at the man, she was clearly confronted with a large ugly brown stain on his pale coat right at the center of it as if someone had purposely spilled coffee on him. She cringed pitifully and lowered her head.

"I'm really sorry about your coat. I can pay the cleaning costs and—"

"Please, Miss. I've already told you that it doesn't matter. It's not like I was watching where I was going either so it makes us both guilty."

She raised her gaze with a small grateful smile and now that she did get a very good look in the well-illuminated store, she could easily discern that he looked exactly like Soul Evans…okay maybe his hair was a darker shade, more of an ashen-blonde than a shock white but other than that, they looked nearly the same!

"You don't happen to be related to Soul Evans?"

"I am! He is my younger brother."

"It's a small world afterall." She laughed awkwardly.

Now this was interesting.

"Are you a friend of his?"

"I…uh…"

Okay, how was she supposed to answer that? Telling a stranger that his little brother was the prostitute she regularly visited was out of option. She nodded and let her head slump against the wall.

"My name is Wes Evans by the way." He held his gloved hand out with a cordial smile and Maka couldn't stop the slight quirk of her own lips as she shook his hand.

"Maka Albarn."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Albarn."

"It is nice to meet you, too, Mr. Evans."

A short moment of silence befell them before Wes broke it. "I don't exactly feel comfortable asking you this but how is my little brother doing?"

She blinked, her features twisting with confusion. Shouldn't he himself know what his brother was doing . As if sensing her inner questions, he added, "It is just that I haven't seen him for years, not since he…dropped out of college." He sighed, missing Maka's wide eyes.

Now this was really interesting.

When he expectantly turned towards her, she pulled the collar of her coat up to her chin, in spite of the store being warm enough.

"He…he is doing well."

"What is he doing right now? I am terribly sorry if I am annoying you with my questions but I am worried about him."

"It's okay, I don't mind but I don't believe that I am the right person to answer your questions. Soul and I aren't that close."

She chuckled uneasily, fidgeting and fiddling with her cloak. Damn, was this awkward but it also raised more questions in her head. Why wasn't there any communication between the Evans brothers? Where did Soul Evans come from? And why did he drop out of college? How and why did he decide to become a prostitute? And was her spilling her coffee on his older brother some twisted machination of fate or just a (in)convenient coincidence? She shook her dizzy head slightly.

"Oh. If that's the case, I shouldn't be bothering you with more question—oh wait! Do you possibly have his phone number?"

She knew that this was a precarious question she couldn't give a right answer to.

"It is just that Soul refused to give us a number to contact him and you have to understand that my parents and me are worrying about him."

This sucked so much. "Of course, I understand." She gulped, steeling her voice for her next words, "But I don't know if I can just do that. I mean—I don't know you and I don't want to anger Mr….uh I mean Soul by carelessly giving his number away."

"But I am his brother!"

Maka winced at his harsh tone. "I am sorry, Miss. I shouldn't let my temper get the better of me," he smiled wryly, a hand coming to his hair to swipe a few strands of light blond from his wet forehead. She sighed heavily, a lump in her throat making it hard for her to breathe.

She didn't exactly feel right doing this but by then she was already scribbling the last three numbers of Soul Evans' phone number on Wes' notebook. Aw, to hell with it! He seemed very nice and was very polite and how could she ever be able to live with the heavy guilt of thwarting the reunion of two brothers, who hadn't seen each other in years.

"I can't thank you enough, Miss Albarn," he said happily. "I owe you a favour."

"What? No, not at all."

"Nonsense. Of course, I do. How about…an invitation to the concert of the Philharmonic Orchestra in four months?"

"Uhh…"

"If…if it isn't to your liking feel free to tell me what you would prefer instead and I can—"

"No, it's good. I am…I have never been to such a concert before, that's all."

He gave her that charming smile of his, so unlike his brother's, who seemed to be unable to smile but only smirk, grin, sneer or do a variation thereof. "I can assure you that it is splendid experience to listen to the Philharmonic Orchestra."

"Alright. Thank you very much Mr. Evans."

"Wonderful. And please call me Wes."

She laughed a little. "Fine but then I insist you call me Maka."

It was only later when she was seated in her office that she realized she might have agreed to a date with her hooker's brother.

"Shit."


	4. Golden Halo

A/N: Since I felt really bad about taking so long to update, I thought it was only fair to post this chapter a bit sooner than planned. A big thank you goes to my beta reader VictoriaPyrrhi. As for everyone else, enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Chapter Four - Golden Halo

"Let me get this straight: you accepted a date from a guy, although you have sworn to stay single your whole life?"

Maka winced, bowing her head shamefully and whispered meekly, "Yes."

"You accepted a date from a guy who is the brother of the guy you fuck every Saturday?" Liz's voice was more cutting she could ever remember it, venom spilling from her in waves.

"Yes."

"And to top all of that, you gave him his number, despite not knowing him?"

"Yes." She knew it was a grave breach of trust. It had been a stupid thing to do, and she just hoped everything was going to turn out well for the Evans brothers.

"Soul is going to be pissed."

"But he seemed so nice and I wanted to help. I felt bad for him."

"Still, you shouldn't have done that."

"B-but Liz…I would have felt bad if I hadn't given him the number. I mean he misses his brother and how could I have said no?"

"No buts Maka, you don't know their history. Maybe Soul has a good reason for cutting all ties from his family."

"What kind of good reason could he have?"

"Why do you refuse to spend time with your father?"

"Urgh….do not mention him. Besides, do you know why he refuses to talk to his family? For all I know, he could be a neglectful son and brother."

"Uh…it's a bit more complicated than that."

"Tell me, is...is Wes a bad person? Did you know him as well?"

Liz furrowed her brows, giving her a bitter smile. "Yes, I knew him. Very well even, and he's not a bad person at all." She hung her head lowly, blond hair spilling down her shoulders, shielding her blue eyes from Maka's questioning glance.

Maka allowed herself a slight sigh of relief. At least, Wes wasn't some sort of psycho that wanted to do bad things to Soul. She was still feeling guilty though, and she knew the next time she went to see Soul he was going to be more than just teasingly snarky.

"What am I going to do now Liz?"

"I have no idea, sweetheart, but I know for sure that he is going to be incredibly pissed."

* * *

Soul was incredibly pissed.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You had no right to do that!"

She flinched away from him, suddenly looking so small and delicate, a far cry from how she usually appeared: tough and kickass and brave.

"I'm sorry."

He snarled. "You should be. I can't believe it! How could you do that?"

"I…I don't know! Okay? I just thought—"

"You thought?" he snorted and walked over to her, not stopping even when she bowed her head dejectedly. "Who are you to butt into my stuff? You're just a desperate woman who comes to me for sex. How did it make any sense in that brilliant mind of yours that butting into my life would do you or me any good?"

"I…I…"

"You what?"

"He seemed to be really upset that he hasn't seen you for years and I thought it'd be the right thing to do."

"Tsk. Of course, leave it to Wes to twist a gullible chick like you around his little finger."

He stared her condescendingly down and willed the trembling of his hands to stop. He heatedly ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up with his uncontained agitation. This woman was so stupid! And he had even gone so far to admit that he respected her for her intelligence.

"And the number you gave him was my work number. Imagine big brother's surprise when I greeted him with my suave and sexy voice?" He sneered, his glare spitting fire.

"I already said I was sorry!"

"Being sorry doesn't help me right now. He has already contacted me and knowing him, he won't let this slide so easily even if I change my number."

"What do you have against talking with your family anyway?"

"None of your fucking business, you idiot."

He almost wanted to take his words back at her crestfallen face. Almost. He was far too peeved to consider an apology. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Wes wasn't going to stop pestering him until they talked, and then his parents were probably going to mix things up too, and Soul had no intention of speaking to them again. He made a fist with his right hand, clenching and unclenching it as his blood pulsed rapidly through his veins. He couldn't and wouldn't look into the disapproving and disappointed faces of his family members.

"Hey, I am really—"

"Save your useless apologies for someone who wants to hear them."

"But—"

"Shut up!"

"But Mr. Evans, I—"

"Fuck off!"

"Soul!"

His head snapped up, his eyes widening with the surprise of hearing her say his first name. She seemed as startled as he was, the expression on her face matching his perfectly. She collected herself quickly though and brought her arms tensely to her sides, straightening her stance defiantly, her eyes getting that determined glint back.

"I'm really sorry, Soul. I know I shouldn't have done that without asking you for permission, but I just…I felt bad for him and I don't think I could have been able to live with the thought that I had prevented your brother from seeing you after so many years. I…I just wanted to help."

Maka Albarn never did things by halves and that included looking sincerely remorseful. He heaved a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his white strands again. Closing his eyes, he heavily slumped against the backrest of the couch. This woman was going to rob him of his sanity one day. He hissed irately. What the hell should he do now? Stupid woman. Stupid Wes.

"I think I should take my leave now," came her timid voice quietly, "if that's okay with you?"

He cracked an eyes open, watching her shift uneasily by the door, her fingers wrapping her scarf around her neck. He sighed for the umpteenth time that day and bent forward, his elbows coming to rest on his thighs as he buried his face in his palms. His low growl was muffled and barely audible, hating this helplessness, this lack of control all because of this woman. In spite of being pissed off at her, he wasn't content with idea of her leaving. And he had no idea why! And this pissed him off even more. Only her troubled frown stopped him from pacing around the room for hours and ranting about the shitty turn his life had taken.

"I don't exactly have the best relationship with my family, you know," he eventually said.

She had probably figured out that much, but admitting it aloud still felt like an exhausting physical feat. She nodded uncertainly and stopped mock-adjusting her scarf. The silence that befell them was uneasy and tense and for once he was bothered by the quietness, which was usually either welcomed or successfully ignored.

"I see," she said after a while. "My family is also a little hard to deal with. I mean, my father is, at least."

"Oh?"

This was new. She nodded slowly, watching him cautiously as she approached him. "Yeah."

"How come? I always thought of you as a well-sheltered little girl."

Her shoulders stiffened at his casual words. "I…my parents, they divorced when I was 12," she admitted quietly. His inquisitive eyes never left her small form as she seated herself next to him on the couch, and for a few minutes he ignored his irritation in favour of curiosity. "My father….he cheated on my mom for years." She smiled bitterly and intently gazed at the carpet, lost deep in the unpleasant memories of her childhood. "They used to argue a lot, but my mother always forgave him until she had enough. She packed her things and left, finally free of him."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say, at least until his ignored anger returned together with his smartassery. "What is this? Throwing a pity-party for yourself?"

The way her face went from sad to enraged in a mere second had to be a new record. Riling her up always amused him to no end. This time was no different, especially when her cheeks puffed out and her face seemed to evolve from human to tomato.

"You are impossible!" she screeched and stood up huffishly, her long coat whirling around her slim body as she turned to glower at him. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to share all…all of this?! I just wanted to tell you because I inadvertently got to know something about you. I thought it would be fair but then….then you have the nerve to accuse me of wanting pity. I don't need anyone's pity. Especially not yours, Soul!"

The way she spat his name as if he was some venomous animal made him cringe, but there was no way that he was going let himself get verbally pummeled by her. With his anger flaring, he stood up as well, only a diminutive space of hot air separating their bodies.

"Oh, really?" He let out a mocking snort. "I have no interest in your life or past or what kind of losers your parents are. You're a client, nothing more, nothing less. I don't want to get to know my clients on a personal level and my clients are not supposed to get to know me. You have overstepped your boundaries and telling stuff about yourself won't change any of that."

"How many times do I have to apologize until you stop being such a brat about it? Besides, I know that Liz has told you something about me."

"Please, it's not as if I asked her about you. She freely blabbered about you after you left with that pathetic excuse of yours."

She flinched but her eyes did not lose their deadly glint. "Still. You know about me and I know something about you and I apologized, , I am so very sorry that the brother that hasn't seen you in years wants to speak to you again."

He gritted his teeth and snarled. "Don't talk about stuff you have no idea about."

Her eyebrows rose challengingly as her hands found their appropriate place on her hips, which were hidden under her white coat. "Are you ashamed?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You dropped out of college, didn't you? Wes told me you broke off any contact after that. Is it that why you refuse to talk to your family? I don't think you should use that as an excuse—"

"Shut up!"

He was trembling uncontrollably, his rage threatening to consume the composure he barely clung to. Great. Why did Wes tell her that? It was more complicated than that, but she didn't need to know that. She had already too much information about him for his liking. He took a deep breath and resisted the urge to break something.

"Don't get involved in things that are none of your business, okay?" His voice was strained, a low growl of the anger he held back for the sake of clearing this fickle situation as fast as possible without having his nerves imploding on him.

"I apologized already, more than once. What else do you want me to do?"

"Nothing….you are just not supposed to—"

Words and reason left him when he noticed how close they were standing to each other now. No space of hot breath between them, he could feel her searing breath against his jaw, could feel her thick scarf against his shoulder, could feel the tips of her fingers involuntarily – or not – brush against his knuckles.

This was dangerous.

He had to take a step…more than one step back but her eyes, darkened and shimmering with her fury, captivated him and rooted him to the spot like a moron. His mouth moved, hers didn't but her lips still looked so very enticing, he realized with panicked and wide eyes. He struggled for words that usually came quickly and formed sentences of witty retorts and casual remarks, now, however, he could only gape and gasp and stare at her like a sex-crazed teenager.

A tiny movement of hers unraveled everything: she merely bit her plump bottom lip and he felt his carefully maintained control slipping.

* * *

However Maka had expected her confrontation with Soul to go, this was not how. The first part had occurred as she had predicted: there had been lots of yelling, screaming and arguing. The second part, however….

She certainly had not expected the heated way he had stared at her, igniting the faint embers of lust in the pit of her stomach, neither had she expected them both to cling to each other and tear the others' clothes off as if their lives depended on having each other naked. The things that had followed afterwards were somewhat more predictable, though this time instead of occupying the bed as they fucked, Soul had placed her on the table in the small dining area and true to his word of wanting show her always at least one different sex position whenever they met, he had heaved her long legs over his shoulders and—

"Oh!"

His grasp on her thighs tightened as her thrashing became more erratic. He gave her something that was a mixture of a leer and a grin as he roughly thrust into her. The table under her back was hard and unpleasant and would surely leave some marks and bruises but there was no way she could give a damn about that. She faintly worried for a moment if she was maybe a little bit too loud with her shouts of pleasure until he fucked this out of her overactive brain, too. She didn't know what to do; she needed to hold on to something. Her hands clutched the rough edge of the table, alternately clawing at his hips and eventually settled on not caring where her damn arms were supposed to be.

She moaned especially loudly when he hit a particularly sensitive spot within her, making her vision go blank for a split second as her toes curled and her back arched. His thrusts grew more frantic, more forceful and his hands holding her legs seemed to be made of iron. It hurt a bit, but she had long ago lost the ability to speak coherently to tell him that.

She had never seen him like this. Whenever they screwed he would be so quiet compared to her. Whereas she would scream without a care in the world, the only thing that came out of his mouth was the occasional grunt. Whereas she would involuntarily move her body wildly, everything being out of her control, he would always maintain a certain pace and remain in control over his actions.

This time it was different.

For one, they never had sex spontaneously. Never had they been this desperate.

He was never like this, never so loud and needy. His eyes drank all of her in, more often than not watching her small breasts moved with the force of his thrusts. His moans were the most delicious noises she had ever heard, so deep and smooth and velvety and so…so uncontained in their pleasure.

The table rattled and shook when her orgasm hit her and send her heated body into a frenzy. She hit her head against the dark wood as she cried out throatily, her nerves on fire and her body invaded by such intense pleasure that it consumed her entire being, her thoughts, her skin, her muscles…her everything. His release came quickly after hers, another thing that didn't happen very often. His was trembling and his teeth were clenched, groaning lowly as he came inside her. He slumped on top of her and before he could squish her with his heavier frame, he caught the most of his weight on his elbows, shuddering and burying his face in the crook of her neck. This had never happened before either, Maka contemplated quietly as she caught her breath and absentmindedly watched the ceiling.

After everything was over, he heaved himself up, they shared a somewhat lengthy glance, quickly got dressed, she paid as she always did this time only half the of usual prize, they bid each other goodbye and pretended like this encounter hadn't been any different than the others before.

* * *

"Why are you here Wes?"

Wes' curious gaze that was studying his living room, locked with his somewhat bored, somewhat annoyed one. His eyebrows raised as his brother took a seat across from him on the couch.

"Do I need a certain reason to see my brother?" he said, his voice controlled and smooth. "Especially if said brother has refused to contact me for five years for an unfathomable reason." His maroon eyes narrowed disapprovingly, making him flinch inwardly.

He willed that stupid feeling of guilt away in an attempt to clear his head and not risk snapping at Wes. It wasn't like Wes had come unannounced; he had called him which he only knew how to do thanks to a certain someone. The certain someone who managed to drive him nuts and make his blood boil. The certain someone with whom he had ended up having the best sex ever last Saturday. The certain someone about whom he wasn't supposed to think so much.

Soul should have been prepared for his brother's visit but he wasn't. He felt similar to how he had felt during his piano lessons, unprepared, stupid and inferior.

"Why are you so intent on ignoring us, Soul? Mother and Father are worried sick."

Soul snorted loudly, not heeding the indignant flash in Wes' eyes. "Please, if they really had been worried, they would have tracked me down."

"What are you talking about? Our parents aren't the controlling tyrants you make them out to be."

Soul didn't retort. His parents weren't bad people, no matter how much he painted them out to be in his head. Frankly, it made him feel only more of a bastard. He hung his head, not daring to look into his brother's judging and harsh eyes. He felt so small, so helpless; he wanted Wes to go away or if he refused Soul would be fine with going away himself.

"What have you been up to for the past years, little brother?"

Soul winced, starling out of his miserable self-pity to quickly think of something to reply. Should he tell him the truth? That he was a prostitute. The prospect of Wes' reaction to this made him grin. Without a doubt it would be enough to make him leave and to never even attempt to maintain any contact with such a disgrace of a brother.

"I'm a prostitute."

"Uh….excuse me, I think I have misunder—"

"Nope." He didn't know why he was feeling so giddy but he couldn't help it and smiled brightly at Wes' wide, disbelieving face. Never had he seen his older brother show such obvious awkwardness, usually, he would hide every useless emotion with a mask of pleasantness. "You heard right, big brother. After I dropped out of college, I was unemployed for a year or so. Occasionally, I played the piano in some bars until I decided to sell my body. I am actually very successful at screwing, so I make lots of money and I can choose my clients and not simply take anyone who comes to me."

The silence that followed his admission lasted for what felt like hours and Soul barely contained his laughter at the unchanged expression on Wes' face. "Let me get this straight: You are getting money for sleeping with women?"

"Yep."

"Soul…that's…" he began. Soul inwardly braced himself for the hours-long rant about the inappropriateness, the filthiness and the downright shamefulness of his profession. He expected a verbal pummeling of his pride, of how it was probably a good thing that he had had cut all ties with their prestigious family, of how he had never expected him to sink down to such pathetic levels and that he didn't want to see his dirty face ever again. "…that's awesome."

* * *

"Maybe Tsubaki shouldn't have told us to meet at 8:30 in the morning on our day off?"

As if to underline her point, Liz yawned loudly and stretched her arms out over her head, not bothering to hide her mouth behind a hand with well-manicured nails. She cracked an eye open to glance at Maka, who was trotting behind her like an old-school zombie with a paper-cup of coffee clutched in one hand tensely.

"Are you okay Maka? Maybe you should have stayed in bed after all. I'm sure Tsubaki wouldn't have minded."

Maka shook her head and stifled a yawn, bringing the cup to her lips to take a large cup out of it. She cringed at the bitter taste. "No, I couldn't do that Liz. She said it was very important."

"Definitely not as important as your health. You should take a few weeks off and maybe make a trip to the Caribbean or something."

Maka snorted and immediately took the cup from her lips before she could drink it and spit it back out because of some of Liz' comments. "I don't need vacation. I need to work and earn money. There are still the debts from college I have to repay, my rent, groceries and…and—"

"And….Soul, right? You do know that you could save a lot of money if you don't see him that often?"

"I…could just stop seeing him, you are right." Her eyes narrowed into two deadly slits at the thought. It seemed reasonable to do just that, to stop seeing him and save hundreds of dollars. She didn't even need to stop seeing him entirely, but just reduce their meetings…but no matter how much she turned and twisted this, the idea didn't sit well with her, which did not make any sense at all. For one she could really need the extra money, the money she gave him in large quantities every week; she could easily go without sex again, she really could─ but she didn't want to. If she were to weigh the pros and cons of continuing to see him every week and stopping it, the latter had definitely more advantages. The only vantage she could think of when she persisted on their get-togethers was that she got some marvelous sex, but sex wasn't more important than saving money and being able to pay her rent.

Although her brain made such an entirely comprehensible and sensible deduction, Maka still dismissed the sex-less option entirely. Maybe she was truly a sex-crazed and deprived pervert, a hormonally driven person akin to her father, maybe Soul had some tricks under his sleeves that made sure that no customers ever left so that he got plenty of money, maybe there was more than merely the sex that drew Maka to him, maybe it was because he was a very intriguing person and maybe she didn't mind his company at all.

Yes, he was a sarcastic smartass but fact was: he was smart. He wasn't some stupid and uneducated idiot; it was apparent in the way he talked, he had a lot more control over his words than she could ever hope to have. It was irritating to always get outwitted by him. He was so different from her, but despite that she longed to know more about him because there was a lot more to him than he liked to let on.

Lost deep in her analytical thoughts about her prostitute, Maka didn't notice Liz quirk a brow, a small smile playing on her lips. "How long have you been seeing him already now?"

She ducked her head, hiding the lower part of her face in the high collar of her coat, a bit embarrassed about blatantly ignoring her friend like that.

Oh yeah, she needed a new jacket too, preferably one that was more fitted for the more moderate weather. It was nearing spring and she was still walking around in a thick winter coat.

"A few months," she replied gruffly.

"If I'm not mistaken, it's been almost half a year, right?"

"Maybe."

"Not 'maybe'. I know since I have arranged that meeting between you too.

"So what if it has been nearly six months!?"

She didn't really mean to snap, but Liz was getting on her nerves and this, coupled with her booming headache and only two hours of sleep and the majority of her thoughts being in some way or another over Soul, was not doing any good for Maka Albarn's temper.

"Hey, don't be so touchy. I was just saying….six months is a long time."

"So?"

"I don't think Soul has had a customer for so long."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, I dunno he said something about everything getting too personal and stuff if he ended up spending so much time with the same person."

"Oh."

What was she supposed to say to that? Was it once again one of Liz' thinly veiled attempts, which she believed were subtle, to tease her about what was between Soul and her, which was absolutely nothing but sex. Even though she had to admit it had changed somewhat – so far that she was ready to acknowledge she might perhaps even enjoy his company alone - their relationship was still built entirely on physical pleasure and money.

Then again, Soul had never mentioned something about a time limit he had with his clients. Otherwise, he never hesitated to point out how he was so not ever going to risk getting close to a customer. That she had accidentally met his brother and had learned something about his past life was quite the inconvenience for him, but he still made no attempts at breaking off their business-relationship. They talked more than before, she guessed, but only because she was deeply curious about why someone would drop out of college and become a prostitute. She doubted that prostitution had always been his dream job. She was probably pestering him too much and even if she tried to be not overt about it, he noticed her intent promptly and become irritated and mad, which inevitably lead to an argument…

...at least the sex ended up being fantastic afterwards.

Still, it irked her that he was able to read her like a book. Was she really that obvious? She didn't feel entirely comfortable that he knew her inner workings so well. Should she maybe end this once for all and save the money so that she didn't have to work until the latest hours of the evening? She should preferably end it soon then, before she started to find him and his quirks and his sarcasm truly endearing, which would doubtlessly make a possible separation more difficult. This sucked so, so mu—

Oh damn, her head was swimming. Maybe she really overdid it last night and waking up so early could only earn her protests from her exhausted body. She yawned, holding the back of her free hand in front of her mouth.

She could have jumped from joy if she weren't so damn fatigued when they eventually reached the café Tsubaki had chosen as their meeting point. She was already there waving at them with a huge smile on her face and seeming far too chipper for such an ungodly time. They said their greetings, in Maka's case she yawned them, Liz faring slightly better than her in that regard.

Once seated, Tsubaki didn't beat around the bush and quickly got to the point, waking the sleepy blondes up in a second's instant:

"Mifune proposed! I'm getting married."

* * *

The knocking on his door was a bit more insistent than usual, and if he thought about it she had never needed to knock on his door because he had been always there on time to open it. It wasn't that he was late, she was just early for some inexplicable reason. But maybe this was good and he could clear up something, namely Wes casually mentioning that she was going to accompany him to the concert of the Philharmonia Orchestra. Striding over to the door with a light scowl, he practically ripped the door open to come face to face with none other than Maka Albarn.

"You're early."

She marched into the room with only a curt nod into his direction. Her face was a bit flushed and she was breathing heavily.

"So? Were you still….busy with…someone? I didn't think 15 minutes would make that much of a difference." She warily glanced at the direction of the bedroom.

He sighed. "Don't worry about it. There isn't anyone."

She breathed with relief and smiled a little, the usual lively spark returning to her dull eyes. She seated herself on the couch and unceremoniously dropped her purse next to her. She was sweating a bit and her hair was in disarray, although he had to admit it sort of suited her, in spite of her looking a bit exhausted and weary.

"Don't tell me you ran all the way here?"

"What? No. I just had to park my car a bit farther away than usual."

"I see." He tilted his head to the side and studied her closer as she unbuttoned her coat sluggishly. His red eyes narrowed in confusion. "Isn't it a bit warm to wear such a coat?"

"Yes but I don't have a jacket."

"Why don't you buy one?"

"Don't have the time to go shopping. I have a job too."

"Yeah but I think you should take the time for at least that. Or are you that much of a workaholic?"

The glare she shot him relieved him actually a little but soon enough eased into a questioning glance.

"Did…did you meet your brother again?"

He nodded and ran a hand over his face in an attempt to avoid her inquisitive eyes. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, desperately trying to think of something to dodge this. He didn't feel the usual anger well up inside of him whenever his family was concerned ; a part of him wished to be peeved simply because he could bring this uneasy conversation quickly to an end as it had always happened like that: She would ask, he would get angry, she would try to persuade him to some answers, he would get angrier until they started arguing and used the frustration and pent-up energy to engage in some kinky sex.

This time it was a bit different however, since he had ended up having a very nice chat with his brother, although he still was annoyed about her insolent move of giving his number away, it had dampened over the course of time somewhat. Talking to Wes hadn't been so bad; he hadn't been aware of it on his years of living in solitude but he had truly missed him.

"Umm….how…how did it go?"

His first impulse was to tell her how horrible it was and that she shouldn't have butted into his affairs after all…not because this was the truth but because he had gotten so used to the exchange of words which had become a routine. When he glanced up though and saw her gentle, green eyes questioning him silently, he couldn't muster up his usual harsh sarcasm and rebuff her the usual way.

"Fine, I guess."

"Really?" He jumped at her suddenly loud voice. Her excitement lasted only for a short moment before she slumped lazily into the couch, heaving a heavy sigh of relief. "I am so glad. I thought I really messed up…puh…"

He blinked dumbly before he regained some traces of his composure. He studied her curiously, not knowing how to act around her now. It was…weird.

"So are you guys talking to each other again?"

His eyebrow twitched with familiar irritation. She was always so nosy and in constant need about information about his life. There was it again, the urge to tell her off but it was soon gone only to be replayed with an odd feeling of resignation. She had somewhat helped him to get in contact with his big brother again, even if he hadn't wanted it and had considered this a worst-case scenario initially. He couldn't fight it no matter how much he wanted, but he was damn grateful that she did such an irresponsible thing. His lips quirked into a small grin, making her blink and cock her head to the side. Maybe, he told himself, she deserved to know at least a bit about it, after all, if it weren't for her he still wouldn't be talking to Wes.

"Yeah, we're talking again. He invited me to his place."

The smile that bloomed on her pretty face stunned him momentarily as he had rarely…never been on the receiving end of it. It was as if her bright smile lit up the entire room as cliché and sappy and totally stupid it sounded. He blinked rapidly and shook his dazed head, trying to collect his scattered wits

Maka, however, seemed to be intent on preventing this and he felt his cool slipping more when she came to stand in front of him, gazing up at him with those big eyes of hers, causing him to gape and stare at her long, light lashes and perfectly arched eyebrows and notice the greenness of her eyes. Her mouth moved, forming words and syllables and sentences; he barely caught what she was saying in that giddy voice of hers.

"—so happy that everything's okay between you now! Isn't it great that you have made peace? It would have been so sad if you still refused talking to each other. I mean you are brothers after all and…and—"

"Why?" he asked quietly, carefully taking a few steps back, trying to do something about the inexplicably furious beating of his stupid heart. "Why are you so…invested in my family life? And why would it be of any concern to you if we reconciled or not?"

"I don't know," she admitted uncertainly. "I guess it was partly because I did something stupid and partly because…I have to admit…I was…uh curious and…why would I want it to end badly for you?

He huffed. "You shouldn't be curious about my life or feel affected by what happens with my chaotic family."

"I know…" she mumbled, sheepish and defeated. "…but I can't help it. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have gotten into such a situation and that's why…I am like this."

They fell into a silence that was an odd mix of uncomfortable and companionable. He didn't know where to look; it was awkward to gaze away from her as she was staring intently at him but looking straight at her did some weird stuff with his stomach.

In the end, he determined that aimlessly staring around the room would make matters more awkward and thus he settled for directing his eyes towards her…which ended up being the wrong decision because she was smiling again and seeing her smile made his stomach feel funny and his heart beat faster than it should.

Damn! What was going on with him?

"You know…" she trailed off, lowering her gaze to the ground shyly. "I am kind of glad that everything turned out so good…for you."

He sucked in a deep breath when he was once more confronted with that ridiculously radiant smile of hers, making him swiftly turn his head away. "Y-yeah….uh thanks."

It was official now: his cool professional distance was gone. Yes, he was grateful for her unwanted involvement, but he didn't need to act like this because of that! He shook his head feverishly. He had to clear his mind, damn it! And her quietly muttered happiness for him shouldn't make him feel so light-headed and should definitely not be responsible for making his chest flutter.

He needed to stay focused on the facts: she was his client and he offered her his services, for which she always faithfully paid without any complaints. Yes. She was a client. And he was her prostitute; getting such strange feelings were bad signs. Inhaling deeply, he urged himself to calm down, at least his heart didn't seem to pound as loudly as before. He gulped. So far so good, he could think clearly again.

Besides, there was one more thing that he needed to know.

"Hey, when Wes was at my place, he told me something interesting."

"He…did?"

"Yes. He told me that he is going to take you out on a date."

"I…it's not a date!" She blushed prettily, her smile replaced by a wrought up frown and Soul immediately regretted saying the words that made her look so discomposed. Yet, he also wanted some answers because it could prove to be troublesome if his brother were to date one of his clients. He hadn't told his brother what kind of relationship he had with Maka Albarn, nothing more but a business-relationship. She had apparently told him that they were friends. "He just wants to thank me, that's all. And I agreed without thinking too much about it."

"You know that lovely friend of yours? Maka…the one who helpfully gave me your number. I'll be taking her to see the Philharmonic Orchestra."

He gritted his teeth, the wave of annoyance that washed over him made him all the angrier because he couldn't explain it. Yes, it would complicate matters if Wes were to ever date his client, so Soul simply needed to break the whole thing off. He didn't peg Maka for the type to continue this when in a relationship. Then there was still the problem of having to explain that to Wes. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he kept such a big thing from his brother.

He let out a disgruntled groan. "Hey, are you okay? If you think everything's going to be weird because of that sorta-date thing, I can still decline, you know."

"You would rather refuse to go on a date with Wes Evans than break off what we have?"

"I am not interested in relationships or dating."

Even if she wasn't, Wes had always a way for charming women. He doubted that Maka would shoot down his brother, who was everything he wasn't. Wes was successful, popular, polite and an all-around pleasant guy; pity that he was never serious with the women he dated. There was another unpleasant ripple of emotions coursing through his body at the thought of Maka being thrown aside when Wes lost his interest in her. He shoved that aside as quickly as it had come.

"If that's the case then…."

"Umm…Soul, I have been meaning to ask you this…"

"What is it?"

"Liz told me that you never keep a client for too long and that you never had someone as long as you had me. Why…is that?"

Shit!

He hadn't thought about that one at all. She was entertaining, alright, had a great body and he would loathe to never see her again and—

He pushed these stupid and useless and absolutely brain-frying thoughts away too. Okay, he had gotten too close to her, most of it having resulted from things he hadn't been able to influence but still, becoming so clingy about her was definitely moronic in all its entirety, not to mention unprofessional.

"I…uh…don't have the time limit anymore."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It's not like Liz knows everything about my job."

"That's good, then. I don't want this to end…uh I mean I—"

"Yes, yes, I know what you mean." He hastily waved her off, turning his face away to hide his self-satisfied grin. "You can go to the bedroom and prepare. I have to get the condoms okay?"

"Alright."

When Soul arrived with the condoms in one hand, his other already unbuttoning his shirt, he stopped in front of the bed, not quite believing what he was seeing: Maka Albarn sprawled on the bed and sleeping soundly.

He should wake her, shouldn't he? Either to send her home or to have sex. He would send her home, when she was this tired. He walked over to her, a hand reaching out to shake her awake but halted only a few centimetres from her cheekbone. He shouldn't be doing this…

He stood and readjusted his half-unbuttoned shirt, throwing the condoms onto the nightstand to have both hands free. Quietly pulling the sheets from under her small body, he covered her with them and remained there on the spot, watching her snore slightly, her long eyelashes creating long shadows on her delicate face, her lips parted a little and her hair spilling around her like a golden halo—

What the fuck was he doing?!

Like a halo, seriously? How much more pathetic could he get?

And watching her sleep? How much more creepy could he get?!

He grabbed a fistful of white hair and pulled on it roughly; grumbling and cussing under his breath at the levels he had sunken to. Intent on waking her to make her leave immediately before they did something stupid, he once again couldn't bring himself to do it. She looked so peaceful and…and—

Fuck this!

He shut the door silently behind him and left her to sleep.


	5. Green Satin

Chapter Five - Green Satin

Maka had been determined to avoid the topic of Soul Evans entirely, at least that of his private life. Alas, things weren't go according to plan again.

"Everyone in my family is a musician," Wes said, smiling mildly, "my mother is an opera singer, my father is a pianist, I am a violinist and Soul is…was a pianist too." He sighed heavily, his maroon eyes dulling and becoming vacant as he stared at nothing in particular.

Maka pursed her lips thoughtfully, her fork in her right hand sliding down limply because of her loose grip on it. How had she ended up in this situation again?

Ah yes, she had just innocently wanted to eat some lunch during her break and as she had been intently focused on her tasty spaghetti, Wes had called her name. They had greeted each other, exchanged the usual pleasantries, and Maka had not known what to say when he had asked if he could join her.

There were a lot things that had told her to decline politely. For one, she didn't feel entirely comfortable with a person she barely knew. Secondly, she was still screwing his younger brother regularly and that they resembled each other so much did nothing to diminish the awkwardness. Thirdly, she still was supposed to go with him to that concert, which might or might not be a date, making this meeting even more unsettling.

In the end though, her manners had won out and she had motioned for him to take a seat across from her. She had to admit he was very easy to talk to, very insightful and charming and never the person to leave an awkward silence hanging in the air to stretch on for hours. His compliments and smiles were timed perfectly, he was eloquent and talkative, but not too much as he listened to her and never interrupted her whenever she was explaining something.

He was…so nice and such a gentleman.

She was still reeling a bit from the utterly stark contrast in personalities of the Evans brothers. Soul was rude, snarky and sarcastic and Wes was the complete opposite: well-mannered, friendly and kind.

They had ended up talking a lot, she noticed. She had shared a bit of her experiences in college and even told him about her parents' divorce, but did not go as far as to give the true reason for it. She didn't feel entirely comfortable with giving that away to him, no matter how nice and understanding he appeared to be.

Then again, why had she entrusted so much to Soul? He wasn't someone she'd label as particularly easy to talk to. At least, he hadn't been at first, but from time to time during his unguarded moments, he'd say things that gave away how perceptive and introspective he was as well. He was rough around the edges and could be a total ass, but deep down he was a good and respectable man.

Her lips curved into a gentle smile, her heart warmed, but then she caught herself and shook her head slightly, trying to listen to what Wes was saying, how he had just recently purchased an apartment here in the vicinity, how he was a violinist and tales about his family.

Maka had sworn to herself that she'd avoid Soul Evans' private life yet here she was trying to thwart off her damnable curiosity. She fidgeted on her seat, uncertain if it was wise to ask the older Evans brother about a topic that seemed to upset this much. And yes, the whole issue of how she should not care about Soul's family and what he used to do in his past.

"He was a pianist? Why…did he stop playing the piano?"

After a brief pause another easy smile slid on Wes' handsome face. He heaved a slight sigh, a deep sadness flickering in his eyes before it vanished, leaving those pools of unreadable maroon back. "I'm not sure. He's very talented and had such a promising career ahead of him; instead he dropped out of college and refused to explain anything."

She made a noise of thoughtful acknowledgement, inwardly though she was seething. Why would he do something stupid like that? Why would he waste all the opportunity in life for a bright future and leave his family back without any words of explanation? Soul Evans was a complicated enigma, which, against all promises she had made to herself, she was now intent to solve.

Furrowing her brows, she glanced down at her meal, her appetite gone. Going out during lunch break resulted in weird stuff occurring to her lately. Speaking of lunch break...it was almost over and she needed to go back. Pointedly looking at her watch, she slowly stood up.

Wes perked up, following her suit.

"It was very nice talking to you Wes, but I need to go back."

"Of course, I'm sorry for delaying you."

"You did not delay me. I'll be back on time."

She returned his polite smile not with the same ease as his. They exited the diner together and came to stand in front of the doors.

"So…"she began awkwardly.

He chuckled. "I hope to see you again before the concert of the Philharmonic Orchestra."

"Uh yes, hopefully yes, but I don't know when. I am so busy lately with my job and my best friend is getting married on top of that."

"I understand. If you have already so much to do, I won't bother you."

"If you say it like that you make me feel really bad, you know."

"What? That wasn't my intention at all." His lips twitched into a pleasant smile, and Maka instantly felt better. "Who knows─ maybe we'll run into each other by coincidence like today again."

"Yes, maybe."

She lowered her head and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Goodbye Maka."

He reached for her hand, grasping it gently and making her shudder at the sensation of his soft skin against hers. She faintly noted how his fingers were slim and long, not unlike Soul's. She absently shook his hand, her eyes dazed and unfocused. She managed a shaky goodbye before she turned away with a nod of her head, leaving him there to stare at her retreating back for a few seconds before he also made his way back.

* * *

"Dude, I'm so gonna score a chick for tonight!"

Soul winced as his best friend clapped him forcefully on the shoulder, his booming voice drowning out any miserable protests on his part. His red eyes narrowed into a glare as he swatted the big hand away.

"Great for you Black*Star," he drawled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket with a bored sigh.

His friend scoffed, yet the shit-eating grin on his face remained firmly intact. "Look, I don't get regularly some pussy because it's my job. I actually have to make some effort unlike you, and there is no better place to go hunting for prey than a wedding. Lotsa desperate single ladies."

He cackled lowly at Soul's glare. "You're a dumbass." He turned away from his obnoxious yet sometimes funny friend, readily taking a glass of wine from the tray of a waiter who was passing by and giving him a curt nod of gratitude.

He took a small sip, although he would have very much liked to down the whole glass because of the headache his friend was giving him with his bullshit. For one, Soul had to make an effort in order to get more customers too; second, even if his friend insisted that he was going to score a chick tonight, it was an effort that was doomed to fail. Soul had accompanied him often enough to clubs, bars and, as it happened to be today, a wedding to know what the outcome of his 'hunt' was going to be. It had almost become routine for him by now.

Soul wasn't even sure why he had agreed to come with Black*Star. Weddings weren't his thing at all; he couldn't stand the overly cheerful mood, the kitschy exchange of vows, the sappy kiss to seal the deal and et cetera. A part of him had come out of a sense of responsibility as having Black*Star on the loose like that and possibly inebriated later on could only end in a disaster. Not that he was a bad person, but he was easy to set off and start unnecessary fights, especially when drunk out of his mind.

Another part of him had come because he needed to stop thinking about Maka Albarn. It certainly didn't help matters that his brother had become quite smitten with her and liked to relay to him every coincidental meeting that usually happened during her lunch break.

Thus, when Black*Star had asked/demanded him to come to the wedding of a friend of his from high school, he had reluctantly agreed. And now he was standing there in a large reception hall, dressed in an immaculate suit and drinking wine.

"Soul! Look at that one. The one in the blue dress."

His eccentric friend put a heavy arm around his shoulders, caging his neck in between muscles, bones and a wrinkled white dress shirt, almost causing him to spill his drink onto the polished floor. He forced Soul's head into the direction the target of his lust, who was chatting amiably with some tall guy. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. She looks nice I guess."

"Nice? Seriously? Have you seen that rack? Huge."

Soul freed himself from his friend's invading grip, his brows furrowing with his increasing annoyance. "Is that all you came here for? To have a woman to warm your bed? You're a great friend, Black*Star."

Maybe he should have avoided coming here. Black*Star was pissing him off more and more. Huge racks were overrated anyway. Big boobs didn't suit every woman and besides small breasts could look damn fine too─ like Maka's. She had a great body, in fact her small chest only added to her appeal─

Fuck.

"Hey. I'm an awesome friend. I'm not here mainly for the chicks; they are a nice bonus though."

"Whatever."

"Hey, don't try to ignore me, Soul. We're bros and you promised you'd be my wingman tonight."

"I didn't promise you anything."

"You so—woah! Pigtails, is that you?!"

"Hush. You're so noisy Black*Star. You haven't changed at all, have you?"

No, it couldn't be! Soul refused to accept this turn of events as reality. That was unmistakably her voice; there was no mistaking that angry edge and the annoyed drawl. Gulping thickly, he slowly turned around, dreading what he was going to see, although he should have already been resigned to it. What shitty irony was that? He had come here to free his head from that troublesome woman who never failed to cross his thoughts, and now she was at this very wedding and….she looked gorgeous.

"Who knew you could look so hot? Not bad Pigtails."

Soul made an involuntary growl when Black*Star put his arm around her, pulling her close and grinning widely. He had never had the urge to smack his friend this much before.

"You're impossible, Black*Star. You're still as immature as ever, but please refrain from doing something stupid or embarrassing today. It is Tsubaki's big day, and you are not going to ruin it!"

Tsubaki? Of course! Even as Black*Star had mentioned the bride's name, it had seemed familiar. How could he have forgotten that Maka had from time to time liked to talk about her best friend since high school too? Urgh…he was so stupid. He mentally slapped himself; he could have avoided this if he had only paid more attention.

"Man, that's harsh. Have a bit more faith in me Pigt—"

"And stop calling me Pigtails."

"You haven't changed either you know that? You're still as bossy as ever. Annoying."

"What did you expect? I have to be bossy or you would just do something stupid…like climbing onto the chandelier."

"How did you know that I was going to climb on the chandelier? Heh, I'm just kidding." He made an attempt to pat her head, but she pulled away quickly, hissing a quiet 'No you won't. It took ages to get my hair done.' He snorted and let his arm drop to his side the same time she crossed her arms stubbornly. "Don't worry Maka. An awesome guy like me knows when it's time not to cause any trouble."

Her frown softened until she was giving him a sincere smile. "I hope so, Black*Star."

"I'm a man of my word."

She giggled, finally uncrossing her arms and much to Soul's tedious annoyance and Black*Star's surprise, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders loosely, whispering, "It's good to see you again."

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Same here, Pigtails."

She pulled away from the friendly embrace, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Soul could only stay frozen on the spot and watch the sweet exchange from not too far. He knew the feeling that made him so disgruntled, that made his stomach churn and flutter unpleasantly, but he willed it away as much as he could because he had no damn business to be jealous.

Maka Albarn had never been unattractive in the first place, but she looked exceptionally beautiful tonight, clad in an emerald green strapless, satin dress that stopped a few inches above her knees; the skirt was done in a pickup-style and only accentuated the smoothness and length of her legs together with the matching high heels she had decided to wear. Her hair was curled into big waves, framing her face prettily. She hadn't overdone it with makeup and jewelry, both held at a tasteful minimum.

He cursed to himself and drank the remaining wine in the glass with only two gulps, resisting marching over to her, ripping that dress off her amazing body and having his way with her here and right now. It was already too late for him to make an ill-attempted escape by then, but when Black*Star's loud voice invaded his ears, threatening to destroy his sensitive eardrums, all hope for avoiding to face her was lost.

"Nah, I didn't come alone. I came with my buddy, Soul." Black*Star casually pointed at him with a thumb.

When Maka eventually set her gaze on him, their eyes widened simultaneously.

Shit.

Suddenly his tie felt too tight around his neck, his jacket too small, pressing heavily against his chest and making it harder to breathe.

"Soul?" she asked tentatively as they both stepped closer to him, Black*Star's hand never leaving her shoulder. "I didn't know you and Black*Star were friends."

His friend's brows furrowed in surprise. "What? Don't tell me you know each other already."

Maka gave him a shaky nod. "Yes, we do."

Black*Star's surprise was gone in an instant as he grinned. "That's good. Now I don't have to do that stupid introduction shit."

She shot him a disapproving scowl and only seeing him shrug sheepishly in response, turned her attention to Soul.

"Uh…hi," he began uneasily, having never felt so uncool in his life as he did now.

"Hello Soul." She smiled gently, but lowered her gaze, making him feel inadequate and out of place.

"So…this is your friend's wedding then? Tsubaki, isn't it?"

"Y-yes."

"And you're a bridesmaid?"

"I am the maid of honour!" she said proudly, chin held high, making him smile.

"You and Black*Star know each other from high school then?"

"Heh, yes. I didn't expect him to come, actually and not with you accompanying him. A strange coincidence, don't you think?"

"Indeed."

"You know Black*Star is actually more the type of person who would lose the invitation to the wedding and totally forget about it. He is scatterbrained like that, but I guess I didn't give him enough credit."

"Damn right, Pigtails!" Black*Star's obnoxious voice made them both flinch and cringe.

"Idiot," she hissed, clenching her fists tightly.

Soul couldn't help, but chuckle at her blushing face. "Ignore him; he is desperate for some attention. But #

'Pigtails'? What kind of nickname is that?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh, her shoulders slumped a bit. "Back in high school I often wore my hair in pigtails, and Black*Star liked to tease me about it and after all these years the nickname just stuck."

Soul felt a tug at his heart when she smiled fondly; he should be doing his best to push her away, but he had to resign himself to the fact that he didn't want to. He was unable to argue with himself about the dangerous realization that he didn't want her to be gone from his life, knowing it would leave some sort of void. There were a lot of things he could have done to avoid that, things he couldn't so anymore because it was too late—

No, that wasn't true.

He could still give her the cold shoulder, could refuse to converse with her and not to mention simply tell her off and end the business with her. As much as he tried to convince himself of the rightness of it, it just didn't sit well in his thick skull.

"Soul?"

Her voice startled out of his thoughts suddenly, making him shake his head as if he was slapped on the neck with a wet towel.

"What…what is it?"

"Umm…I have to get in position. The ceremony is about to start. And you should get in as well. See ya."

* * *

The wedding ceremony was as kitschy and schmaltzy as he had expected it to be. It was as if they had been aiming for the most cliché-filled wedding ever. The bride was pretty, the suit on the groom fit well, the decoration was mostly pastel and light-colored, there was a cute little flower girl, there were tears, there was the exchange of vows and of course the short kiss shared between groom and bride.

Throughout the whole display of sap, Soul resisted the urge to yawn….that is he would have had to resist the urge if he had been paying any attention to the drag of a wedding. During the whole ceremony he had been transfixed by Maka as she stood a bit aside from the bride like the other bridesmaids, who were, much to his pleasant surprise, Liz and Patti.

She had always kept her smile, her eyes bright and warm with genuine happiness for her friend, keeping him enthralled by everything she was doing. Every small move of hers had him mesmerized, his eyes expressing blatant awe and fascination.

The whole thing didn't last long though, which was a relief as he would have probably ended up drooling because of her and how hot she looked. For him, she looked better than the bride, better than Liz and Patti. The bridesmaids were all dressed in the same shade of green, but their dresses differed all in style: Liz' dress consisted of a corset, pushing her chest up and making it appear bigger, Patti's on the other hand didn't leave any cleavage to marvel at as her huge bosom was covered by silky cloth with only one broad strap holding it together on her right shoulder. It made Soul vaguely remember the old times, when Liz had always bemoaned the unfairness of how her little sister had a larger rack than her. Maka's was the only one that was short and Soul had to praise the designer, the wedding planner, the bride or whoever was responsible for the choice of wardrobe as her legs were being accentuated nicely.

He licked his lips, his eyes clouding over and his mind fogging over hazily. He never….never since he started working in the sex industry, lusted actively after a customer. Sure, he had to get into the mood, but popping a boner for his clients was as much of a duty as it was for a salesman to sell his stuff.

It was official now: he had gotten himself into some deep shit.

* * *

Her gasp was the most adorable noise ever, he thought delightedly, when he pushed her against the wall to have something to steady himself against. She smelled so good; her skin was so soft and smooth. He greedily planted a trail of hungry kisses along her neck, smirking smugly at the rapid pulse beneath his lips.

Her arms came up to wrap around him, her hands digging into his shoulder blades, making him still his advances.

"What…"she began, trembling and flushed, looking more than a bit delirious, "what are we doing?"

"I have no idea," he panted, pressing his body against her, caging her in between his arms and legs. His knee came to rest between her legs, causing her to part them invitingly. "You….you're giving me a boner just by existing in that dress."

He couldn't control himself anymore. Maybe it was because he didn't give a fuck about being professional and maintaining a distance from his clients because it had become too late for that a long time ago, maybe it was because the little bit if alcohol he had consumed tonight had made him shed his inhibitions and doubts completely, or maybe both factors combined were the reason for his actions. He ran his hands curiously over her breasts as if this was the first time he had ever managed to get close to her like this, shuddering at the delightful moans she gave away only for him to relish in them.

Everything had started innocently enough. Liz had practically pushed her unsuspecting friend against him with a sly grin and told them to dance because he really needed to stop brooding.

After some bitching on his part, they had ended up dancing. At first, it had been awkward and she wasn't much of a graceful dancer or much of a dancer at all, but after she had resigned herself to following his lead they managed to have some fun and enjoy themselves. And the more the hours progressed, the closer their bodies had come until there was not the tiniest bit of space separating them.

Having their chests pressed together like that had already made him lose half of his sanity, but what really set him off had been that look in her eyes, the hard stare that fixed him in place, the cloudy green of her irises that chipped away at his self-restraint expertly. He had tipped his head down and had caught a glimpse of the small cleavage her dress displayed; had in an attempt to cover such an embarrassing slip up up raised his gaze, only to be met with her hazy eyes once more.

They hadn't talked, hadn't used any words to agree on what to do from then on, but they had nevertheless exited the grand ballroom unnoticed, only to end up in some dimly lit, abandoned hallway groping and touching each other as if they had only one day left to live. In only one short moment of reasonability he stopped to think about what he was doing before he became too lost in the sensation of feeling her skin against his, of her searing breaths against his neck and her own inquisitive hands roaming up and down his body.

"B-but we can't─ hah, can't do it here."

Her words did not match the route her hands were taking, sliding further down his back until she had them on his rear and pulled him flush against her, their groins rubbing together, desperately seeking friction. He growled deeply and pressed against her persistently, the skirt of her dress moving up beautiful, smooth columns of legs. He unabashedly run his hand up her thigh, his fingers skirting dangerously close to her panties.

"Why not?" he gasped, red eyes alight with desire.

"Because it's…someone might see us."

"So let's give them a great show, then." He grinned wickedly, teasingly rubbing his thumb against her damp panties, making her mewl and forget what exactly might go wrong if they got down and dirty in a public place like this

"N-no…"she breathed out sharply and pushed against his chest defiantly, making him take a step back and instantly miss her warmth. "I'm not going to do this here…on Tsubaki's wedding! And since when are you also available for quickies?"

He made sure to keep his hands to himself, stuffing them into his pockets. He tried for a seductive smirk as he asked,"Why a quickie? I can give you the whole program…_Maka_."

She snorted, but much to his delight pulled him towards her again, tugging insistently at a belt loop, as he put a finger under her chin, angling her head up. "The hotel is too far away and we have both been drinking so neither of us can drive. Should we call a cab and—"

Soul cut her effectively off when rolled his hips against hers, his hot breath fluttering over her cheekbones and making her own breath hitch. Her eyes were wide for a second before they turned cloudy and hazy and unfocused again, her lids lowering at his nimble fingers making her lose herself in the pleasure of his touch. His next step wasn't planned at all…then again nothing that had happened so far had been planned in any way, but this went even beyond unplanned and spontaneous.

They were so incredibly close, the tips of their noses brushing together, their gazes locking and never wanting to let go, their hands comfortably wrapping around one another. He could feel her pants against his lips, only furthering his need to press his against hers.

And he did just that.

She stiffened immediately, shocked at the gentle and intimate gesture. He was surprised at himself, too. This was the first time they kissed; even when they had sex they had always avoided any lip lock, but now it was too late for regrets or anything similar. His fingers were trembling with a nervousness he wasn't familiar with, but then she relaxed and her lips moved readily to kiss him back, her tongue greedily licking his mouth until he let his own wet tongue join hers.

Soul growled from the back of his throat as she dug her fingers into his scalp, pulling at the soft strands of white. He bit her bottom lip in retaliation, grinning wickedly when she made a startled squeak. All too soon they had to pull away, both of them inhaling much needed gulps of oxygen and their hearts hammering simultaneously with a force and speed that ought to be unhealthy. He didn't dare to put any gap between their bodies anymore. He needed her, he wanted this woman so damn much that he couldn't let go of her. His lips tingled with the need to kiss her again, his hands itched to discard her fine hindrance of a dress.

Exhaling deeply, he eventually spoke, "We can go to my place. It's close."

* * *

He did not give a shit that he was most certainly letting a client into the private sanctum that was his apartment─ the one place which he had sworn no customer was ever going to see or step into.

They chuckled dumbly at the door when he kicked it shut and when they tried to discard their shoes without trying to lose much contact from the other. They were both needy and hotly bothered, their hands immediately latching on clothes and fabrics to have them out of the way as fast as possible. His jacket came off first, dropped in the narrow hallway as they continued their hasty stumble to his bedroom. Her fingers furiously attacked the buttons of his shirt, looking peeved that the stupid buttons dared to be in her way in the first place, and when his shirt was pushed off his shoulders to slump down in his living-room, one part of it hanging on the edge of the television, she didn't waste any time to make proper use of her find.

She raked her nails over the toned muscles of his torso, licking, kissing and biting the sensitive flesh of his neck, leaving him surprised at her sudden assertiveness. He shivered and gasped, his hands unabashedly traveling down her back to grope her rear. He had somehow managed to guide them to his bedroom, something that made him a little proud, but this was overshadowed by sheer giddiness when he found himself pushed against the door with her fiddling with his belt.

He ran a hand through her curled hair, pulling at it slightly making her breath catch and her eyes widen. He pulled her head up and joined their lips again, their tongues mashing together and their teeth nibbling on everything they could get. His belt was gone with a smooth move of her arm, the door behind him opened and they both teetered inside his bedroom. He was glad that he hadn't left it as a total mess, but he doubted that Maka would have care about the tidiness of his room anyway, considering how she only seemed to be intent on getting rid of his pants.

His arms were around her waist in an instant, his hands in hasty search for the zipper of her dress. It was unfair how he was almost completely naked yet she refused to bare her lovely body to him.

"D-don't…you idiot," she hissed, giving his earlobe a teasing bite that had his mind go blank, making him unable to grasp her words at all. "You'll rip it. It was very expensive." She sluggishly swatted his hands away, pushing him haphazardly onto the bed that was much to his surprise already so close behind him.

He propped himself up on his elbows to see her hands vanish behind her back to pull the zipper down. He didn't breathe at all in the seconds the bodice of green satin loosened around her chest; he released all stalled air in his lungs when it became completely undone and slipped from her form to pool around her ankles and feet.

She wasn't wearing a bra, only her green panties giving her some semblance of modesty. His heart hammered viciously in his chest, he thought it might explode or something as she approached him slowly and crawled over to him, straddling him as their lips pressed together once more.

Soul was soon pushed down by a small hand against a collarbone, his head hitting a pillow roughly. He didn't mind her aggressive handling though because it was fucking hot. She could do anything she wanted to him, with him. She hovered over him on her hands and knees, her head lowered to give her lips the opportunity to give his skin all the attention she felt like giving.

Maka left a wet trail of kisses from his neck down to his chest, her tongue circling his nipple, causing him to yelp and his toes to curl. She ventured further down, down and lower until she reached his pants. With a heavy grunt she unbuttoned them and hooked her fingers into the belt loops, pulling and tugging impatiently at the stupid garment. She shakily stood up, taking his pants and boxers with her, and threw them away, her eyes gleaming

She ground herself against his erection, their moans and mewls and grunts creating a mishmash of lustful noises.

She was so amazing, irresistible, damn it, he needed her now, but what was she doing? He was too dumbfounded to say anything and only saw how she, after crawling further down his body, let her tongue dart out to lick the head of his shaft, eliciting a strangled yelp from him. He threw his head back before he caught his senses and his hands were at her head gently pulling her up.

"What…is it?" she asked and he exhaled shakily, biting his lip uncertainly at her inquisitive eyes. "Did I hurt you?"

His heart melted at the worried look she was giving him. Shaking his head, he whispered, "No, you didn't hurt me….I…I just…urgh, shit." He closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the mocking laughter and incredulous words which were surely to follow. "I've…never…had someone give me a blowjob before."

Soul opened his eyes nervously only to be met with her blank eyes.

"You're kidding right?" she asked flatly.

"No, why would I, and in such a situation no less?"

"I don't know but, but I thought you tried everything there is to sex already, and...and you've never had anyone, um," she pointed with her eyes to his dick, and he had to bite back a smile at how she could manage to look so innocent with her mouth a few inches away from it.

Instead, he opted to roll his eyes with an annoyed huff. "When I am with a client, it is about their pleasure not about mine, so no chances at getting head there."

"B-but what about…the time before you became a prostitute?"

"I…I wasn't together with a lot of girls before that. And the ones…I were with…didn't want it…so…"

"Oh."

He snorted. "Yeah. Oh."

The awkward silence that followed was nearly too much to bear. He gritted his teeth. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything and let her continue. It would have saved them this uneasiness and the blow to his pride, but he couldn't help it. He was self-conscious as he never had someone giving him a blowjob. He had always been curious, sure, but it wasn't something he could expect a customer to do for him. It was about pleasing them, never him.

Her hands that slid down his muscled arms to come to rest on his shoulders were soothing and warm as she comfortably settled herself on his hips. "There's a first time for everything, right?"

Maka bit her lip coyly, gently smiling down at him as he contemplated her words. And then slowly, he nodded his head. Her smile widened and she leaned forward to give him a soft kiss before she made her way down again.

Despite his initial reservations, there was no way to deny that seeing her mouth on his dick was the most amazing sight ever and—

Oh shit!

Her mouth was hot, her tongue was deft and moved with such an expert ease that he found himself questioning if this was still the Maka Albarn he knew. Usually so prudish and conservative, she sure as hell could give some fantastic head. His lips parted as he moaned noisily, his breaths coming out as pants and a hand coming to tangle with her blond locks as he used the other steady himself because he wanted to see her and not lie down like some submissive moron.

The small pleased noises she made were fucking cute and were driving him almost as insane as the sensation of her mouth, lips and tongue all working in unison on his dick. He was going to lose it soon; he wasn't going to last long at this rate.

"M-maka….I…"

He wanted to warn her, knew it was the right, the gentlemanly thing to do. The last thing he wanted was to have her run out screaming because she got a full load of his jizz on her pretty face. He bit his lip to contain himself from making more embarrassing sounds, but the more he tried to restrain his exclamations of pleasure, the more Maka seemed intent to make him scream all the louder.

He was hopelessly lost when she decided to use her hands too, pumping the part of his shaft that wouldn't fit into her mouth at first and then proceeding to cup his balls and do some amazing things with them, driving him quickly over the edge, with his stubborn wishes not to be so loud discarded the moment his release hit him forcefully.

Red eyes screwed shut as he cried out her name, his fingers digging into her scalp slightly and pulling at her soft hair. She drank all of him up, not letting a little bit spill, his eyes never straying from her face as he watched her swallow it all down. If it were possible, he'd have become hard all over again just from the mere sight of that.

He let himself heavily plop down with a puff of breath, his forehead wet with sweat and his hair sticking unpleasantly to his neck. She was over him in an instant, laying herself on top of him without any hesitation. The feeling of her breasts against his chest was wonderful as was her hair tickling his jaw, her fingers drawing lazy patterns against his chest and the small satisfied smile he felt against his chest. He hummed contentedly, an arm readily wrapping around her.

"How…how as that for your first time?"

He smirked against her temple, his hand toying with the elastic of her panties, his chest rising and falling with each intake of breath. He definitely did not regret letting her take the lead this time.

"It was awesome."

* * *

A while later, they were both lying next to each other, sated and satisfied and sweaty. Soul had lost count of how many times they ended up doing it, being close as humanly possible. Maka sighed and shuddered when his fingers drew random patterns against the skin of her lower back, making her snuggle close against his chest. He grinned lazily at her pleased smile and heavy lidded gaze.

When had this gone from heat- of- the- moment sex to intimate cuddling now? It didn't bother him at all, even if it should, but holding her like this gave him a sense of peace and comfort. He could certainly get used to this, having her here in his own bed, naked and spent and in his arms.

Who was this girl who managed to drive him crazy like this? She was bossy, she was short-tempered and uptight. And compared to some of his other customers, while admittedly still attractive, she wasn't the typical bombshell. Yet seeing her in that green dress had made his blood boil and suddenly she had become the only woman he could think of as attractive; no, she transcended that simple term. She was the only one who he ever wanted to kiss, the only one he was ready to bring to his apartment without any hesitation whatsoever. He was perplexed by it, but he didn't wish this night to ever end.

"You know," she began slowly, "I never thought I'd be the one to initiate something new with you."

Soul smiled drowsily, combing his fingers through her soft hair. "Believe me, I'm surprised, too. I never would have thought you'd be so amazing at giving head."

She flushed a little, but pouted at the same time. "I do know some stuff!"

"Oh yeah, you do, and it's hot." He smirked and she buried her face in her pillows, trying to hide her smile. He revelled in the silence between them; he loved talking to her, but he also appreciated how comfortable he felt being around her, just her presence was enough to instill his troubled soul with serenity.

His eyes roamed over her naked body, took in the slope of her spine, the curve of her shoulders, her firm ass, her superb legs and small, dainty feet.

"It's weird," Maka said after a while, her voice a little muffled by the soft pillows. "I would've thought you'd have dated a lot in college."

Soul scoffed softly, rolling on his side, and let his knuckles graze her back, relishing in the goosebumps that appeared in the wake of his touch. "I dated sometimes, but it usually didn't last. I was too busy, classes were a bitch, and the professors were not exactly considerate or understanding when you missed one."

She shuddered slightly, turning her head so she could talk without the pillow obstructing her mouth. Her brows were furrowed and she had this look on her face again, the one he had come to like and detest at the same time. She wanted to know something and she wouldn't rest until she got her answers.

"Why did you drop out of college, if you don't mind me asking? I mean I assumed you were lazy and that you weren't keen on an academic career. But if you say you were too busy to date, it sounds like you put effort into your studies. What made you drop out?"

Soul swallowed thickly, his skin prickling with unease. He had never talked about this with anyone before and had always successfully managed to dodge the subject with Black*Star as well. There was a part of him that wanted to keep this hidden, wanted to refuse to talk to Maka, yet another part of him realized that it did him well to open up to her. There was something very trusting about her; he didn't feel as agitated as he would use to whenever the topic of university and college arose.

"I'm not sure how to tell you." He sighed heavily.

"If you don't want to talk about it, I understand. You don't have to," she whispered, her eyes soft and comforting.

"No, it's okay." And it really was. She propped herself up on her elbows and scooted closer to him. "It's...it's kinda stupid though."

Smiling encouragingly, she patted his arm. "I doubt it, Soul. Maybe it will help if you talk about it?"

"I guess, it might. The thing is, it wasn't like I didn't want to go to college and graduate. I think I had reached a point where everything was too much. I worked my ass off and got great grades, but..."

"But?"

He closed his eyes, his voice thick as the weight of stupid decision in his past returned. "I felt inadequate."

"Why would you think you're inadequate?"

"Because compared to my family I was a loser. I wasn't really good with the piano, average at best. They kept praising my talent, but would criticize my compositions and tell me to take Wes' work as an example. I know they didn't mean to upset me, but it made me realize that I'd never be able to measure up to my brother. And I had no one to blame but myself." Soul clenched his fists and bit his lip. He'd badmouth the professors and go to parties instead of studying. He had reached a point of apathy; he had not cared about his grades because why should he when he'd always be musically crippled brother of Wes Evans, lingering in his brother's shadow since he could remember.

He allowed himself to relax a little when her warm hand smoothed over the tense muscles in his arm. He opened his eyes.

"I really doubt that you're only average. I'm pretty sure you're very talented, Soul."

His heart fluttered, despite himself. He snorted loudly, his brows furrowing. "You've never heard me play. You'd be thinking differently if you actually heard me playing."

"Oh! I'd really love that!" Her eyes glinted in the dim light of the lamp, tinting her body in an orange glow, accentuating the delicate curve of her waist and hip. He made another snort, trying not to let her enthusiasm get to him. She was being nice. He knew she'd just look confused once his sombre melodies reached her eyes. Lighter tones would be more fitting for her, like her laugh; she'd like the more lively tones, the ones to which gentleman asked their ladies to dance. The kind of music Wes made. Soul gritted his teeth, anger flaring in his chest.

"Don't get your hopes high. I stopped playing the piano for a reason, and I don't plan on playing it again." The half-lie rolled of his tongue awkwardly. Sometimes he'd play here and there,because even if the piano had played a part in his inferiority complex, it still beckoned him with its fucking keys and pedals and melodies.

Maka sighed, resigned. "Fine."

"Huh?" He hadn't expected her to give up so easily, but it was better than having her pestering him about pianos and music. They let the exchanged words sink in, the quietness between them a little less comfortable than before. Soul didn't like that, he wanted to know what she was thinking, to what conclusions she had come to. At least, he just wanted to talk to her again, have an easy chat, some teasing maybe.

"You know, even if I played for you," he said, grinning easily as he folded his arms beneath his head. "I doubt you'd be able to say if I was good or bad, considering your abysmal taste in music. What was it again? Trance or techno you like the most? Not that it matters." He snickered.

Her puffed cheeks and her indignant gasp were hilarious; her brows lowered, her eyes narrowing into a glare. "First off, my favourite style of music trance-fusion."

"Same difference. It's still crap."

"It is not all the same! They're vastly different styles. Trance fusion is a sub-genre of the jam band movement, which blends rock, jazz, funk and electronica together. Techno, however, is a form of electronic dance music and there are many styles of techno. Trance is also a type of electronic dance music but it's usually more melodic than techno and—"

He clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening, but her lips were still moving behind his palm. Soul rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. I got it, Makapedia. They're different styles of crap. I don't need a full-blown lecture about it."

She pushed his hand away, scowling darkly before she began yet again, "So what if I like to listen to trance? Why does everyone mock me for that? I can still make a judgment about your skills."

"Nah, I doubt that."

She groaned. "You're impossible!" With that she turned away from him, grumbling something about annoying, elitist music fans. He smiled to himself before he ran his hand over her waist appeasingly.

"Hey, I'm just kidding, though I still think techno sucks."

She glowered at him from over her shoulder, her voice petulant. "You could give it a chance or at least stop making me feel bad for liking it."

Now she was making him feel bad. He cast his eyes down, his fingers drawing random circles and patterns on her skin.

"I'm sorry," he said and he meant it. His fingers splayed over her rib cage just below her breast.

Maka fidgeted, muttered something about insincere apologies, and he cut her off with a kiss. It was still new to him, kissing a woman. He'd usually make sure to never have a liplock with his customers, but terms like those were not in his mental lexicon anymore.

There was a quick release of hot breath from her nose, skimming over his cheekbone as she adjusted quickly and kissed him back passionately. Eagerly, she pulled him closer, her arms encircling his neck her teeth greedily nipping on sensitive flesh when she pressed herself against him. He was the one to end the kiss, his chest and shoulder heaving as he situated himself between her spread legs. He used one hand to caress her cheek and the other one to stroke her hipbone, watching her hazy eyes focus on his darkened gaze.

"Let me make up for it?" he whispered, palming her breast. She hissed in response, arched into his touch, but before he could do more she pushed against him with her hands flat against his chest.

Soul knew what she wanted and it made him giddy with anticipation; he silently obliged her wordless request, as she made him lie on his back and came to straddle him over his hips. He ran his palm over the smooth expanse of her thigh, her sighs were music to his ears.

"You look good like this, Maka." He underlined his statement with a pat on her ass.

She rolled her eyes, but grinned regardless, her hands leaving paths of warmth on his chest, before she gripped him loosely. Her eyes glinted. "I think, _Soul_, that I like seeing you like this, too."


End file.
